I didn't slap you in the face. TEQUILA slapped you with my hand...
there's a wrestler here in a Ferrari//puma hoodie who is telling girls his win//loss record as a pickup line.
The more I throw up, the more I am remembering exactly what I drank last night...in order.
He said I was the "egg mcmuffin" of blowjobs. I'm flattered.
Would it be sharing too much to tell you that my nipples hurt so much that I couldn't comfortably go down the stairs?
And, through a series of unfortunate events, I am at my grandmothers birthday party in a short dress and no underwear
Before we rave about the healing powers of your penis, remember it nearly killed me as well.
We could have casual sex if you want. But I can't offer a bromance to a woman.
Opted for cash back rather than the 10% extra I'd get for store credit, solely for drinks tonight.
You're lovely.
Time to eat Mexican food til I hate myself.
That's completely alright, I do it a lot.
I can get there in 20, one question, Drress Code? Stripper Lite (make up may require an additional 5-10 minutes), Suggestive Professor (professor Kamil's cleavage ain't got nothing on me), Daywear, Dyke (and trust me you ain't seen dyke), or Exactly What I'm Wearing Right Now. (all of the above may arrive under a coat and are subject to my level of sobriety. Which is currently like nonexistent).--xoxo you know you love me, Gossip Girl.
Why are there so many fucking Lambchop puppets hidden around my house?!
I feel like I shouldn't be left around 30 year olds when I'm drunk
Man, it's really obvious that I was either handcuffed or tied up last night. Either way, not something you'd want coworkers knowing.
I just wrote a self loathing message to self, wrapped my credit card in it, put it in an envelope, sealed it with another hate messame, and put it in my lock box. So. That's where I'm at.
Randomize
