the day after is always just damage control
Just found a "how to get laid" book on the dresser and am now a victim of method number 16 corollary 7.
I need the number of a restaurant that delivers, has lock-picking abilities, and is okay with full frontal male nudity. Entirely too hungover to get out of bed.
Having the sex-a-thon in the back yard led to some really odd tan lines.
Like handprints on my lower back...
She just pored wine down the turkeys hole and said that she christened it like the whore that it is...happy thanksgiving.
I miss using glorious as an adjective. I'm gonna start doing that again. And I'm gonna try to get cuntatrosphe in there some more, too.
I just want a boyfriend who will have sex to Disney Pandora.
I vaguely remember making out with some dude. Please tell me he had all of his teeth.
Every time you talk about your facial hair I immedately get horny
Apparently I was drunk enough to call he police station and ask if there was a problem with me.
This is worse than naked and afraid. This is drunk and confused.
2:34, make a wish! I wish I wasn't on acid at Planned Parenthood. What's yours?
I’m sorry I got high and yelled about the patriarchy.
I don’t know if I’m nauseous or just disgusted with myself.
I have dined. Now I want to get fucked.
Randomize
