I fucked **** last night, don't tell mike
this is mike. we're done.
They still haven't come up with a cure for a hangover; good luck cancer.
I'm doing a half mile walk of shame carrying a trash bag and still very drunk. Save me. I feel like a refugee.
Just seeing my phone say "picture message from: Senor Floppy Cock", i knew it was going to make me smile.
Fine. Just this once and because its veterans day will I send you a picture of my tits. You're lucky I love this country.
constantly striving to make life awkward and more complicated, one drunk bone at a time.
Sometimes I feel like I should become a beautician purely for my ability to shave pretty shapes into my pubic hair.
I wonder how he feels knowing that he's the one who turned me gay
Well, at some point in her life every girl has to decide how much weird she's willing to tolerate for hot tall banker cock
I swear I get as excited about the sound of a condom wrapper as my cat gets when she's getting a can of food.
I mean I did fuck her boyfriend, the least I could do is post happy birthday on her Facebook wall.
How weird is it that 2 people I've had sex with have the same birthday and they don't even know each other
ugh, my whole family is going ape shit over my sister's pregnancy blog. I dont get it? Anyone can get knocked up! I had rebound sex with a new york ranger last night, now that is something to fucking blog about.
I’m at the Eye doc, sitting in the waiting room. The woman next to me is highlighting passages in her bible. I’m watching pornhub on mute. I clearly need some penis, or Jesus.
I am the image of restraint, it's why im just hungover and not in the hospital
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