got a scholarship and a hot psych teacher. hello spring 2010
she called me a fuckfaceshitdick. not that's creative. it sounds like a crayola crayon, preferrably an orange-brown shade.
I wonder if she thought to herself "I'm gonna sleep with that guy tonight" when she watched me puke on the bar at 3 in the afternoon?
knew i was gonna lose at a shoe or be bleeding at some point. and both happened within 20 mins.
No more fucking baseball tools. Walk-of-shamed home in only a pinstriped jersey and a Red Sox SnapBack.
Her fucking playlist had randy newman on it. It was like woody was watching the whole time.
You were discovered in a bush, smoking, and singing "in the jungle" to yourself. Which explains the scratches, but not the orange paint.
He doesn't want a full on relationship, he provides me with all the weed I can handle and gives me multiple mind blowing orgasms. He's my soul mate.
Oh my god I haven't had mozzarella sticks since I banged that Applebee's waiter
Drunk wound on my leg hast healed and neither has my dignity
You took motorboating me in public to a whole new level. You poured your beer down my top and LAPPED IT UP.
I just put vodka in my apple sauce. Spice up your fucking life.
New life goal: fuck in the shopping cart
Drink drank drunk tankkkkn, LETS GO
Stay home. Ain't nothing out in these mean streets but plan b and regret
Randomize
