There's too many weed/neon/felt Sublime posters in this room and someone just put on a Hunter S. Thompson movie. Save me, now.
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
I need a booty call who doesn't know my boyfriend or my friends.
there's got to be a less slutty way to tell him the baby isn't his
My own mom unfriended me on Facebook.
I'll throw in a blow job for your kind ways. Or another booty call. I'm poor and not very imaginative. This is all I have to offer- the unicorn like wonders of my vagina.
I bought you a small gift as a preemptive apology for being a drunken slut tonight.
Having the sex-a-thon in the back yard led to some really odd tan lines.
Like handprints on my lower back...
I've literally never felt worse
My body feels like its decomposing
I'm like a savant for remembering names I learned while I was drunk. Seriously, I'm three for three. I'm on a roll.
He's a prodigy! It would be a service to the scientific community.
15 is 15
Where are you in relation to the mariatchi band?
Gotcha. How bad is it?
Well to compare it to something I would say it what's that walls would like inside the primate exhibit at the zoo after a group of monkeys finished throwing feces at each other all afternoon
We were drunk waiting for tacos and I gave him a handy in the back of the Uber while giving the driver relationship advice. I think I'm handling the whole grad school thing alright.
Where are all your bongs? Your Dad wants to make sure they're put away before his family gets here.
Umm....in my room, on my closet, under the bed and behind my laptop.
Randomize
