Ok...drunk girls at the bar are charging $1 for motorboating. It's fucking WEDNESDAY. I never want to leave.
On that note; HAPPY 21: THE SEQUEL from the back of an ambulance!!
I'm at Home Depot to get supplies to fix the wall we cracked by fucking too hard against the bookshelf.
Nothing kills the mood when I am hooking up on the dance floor like the DJ saying Happy Valentines.
we are sitting in a kindergarden classroom alone chugging beer. look at our lives. look at our choices.
There were slices of bread pasted to the wall with peanut butter this morning. I don't want to know
just thought you should know it took me an hour and a half to make soup. I had to keep laying on my kitchen floor. being 21 is hard.
You remember the guy they called Meat in high school? Well, let's just say my vagina remembers him now.
You threw a shot glass at the bartender and still managed to convince him to let us drink more. You are my hero.
I resisted the urge to announce that it looks like a big crystal butt plug
I'm disgusted with myself. I feel like I need 10 boxes of Summer's Eve and a baptism.
I've spent hours masturbating before. It's actually my favorite Sunday activity
Tequila should only be paired with the finest of dick
So I might join you on the drunk train on the way to poor decisions.
Call me Sherlock Holmes, bitch.
Randomize
