i just pissed myself at work. maybe they'll buy the old coffee spill trick
I'm not really sure how I got home, but judging by this headache, i'm assuming it involved bourbon.
Balcony sex scratched the shit out of my phone. Whups.
no jill really. Evrything around me is talking to me. The plant, my dog, the tv,the lamp. Its amazing.
our conversations pretty much only consist of the phrase 'fuck you'. and the sex is fantastic. we've got a great thing going here.
Are you also wondering how we get home after the party bus?
Home?
I've woke up in his bed 4 out of the past 6 mornings. I feel like this might be the time to learn more about him then his first name and what kind of beer he drinks.
Do they mail horrible human being awards or do I have to pick it up or what's the protocol on that shit
i'm sitting in bed scratching my boobs and wearing a sparkly fedora and have no one to blame but myself
You have my heart. You only share my vagina.
That same damn squirrel keeps staring at me like I did something wrong. Nature knows when you're hung over.
She grinded so hard on my face that I've got rugburn on both eyelids
i just cleaned my bong... I do not feel healthy
I need mimosas to revive my soul
I know you won't see this for awhile, but I had to tell somebody, and you're like the only person who won't judge me for having an accidental erotic encounter with General Tso's chicken.
Randomize
