we're blogging at a bar
I wasn't pimping you out... I was helping you network!
he asked me to marry him on one of those scrolling message belt buckels.... what now?
Your remote is drenched in lotion and you expect me to believe you weren't masturbating?!
I've banged too many servicemen's wives to still be considered an American.
Dude you're alone at a bar with a woman, and you're talking about my junk?
Some clips from last night: grinded like I haven't since college. Took shots with a bartender with a bad ass mustache. Made up a string of lies with fake names and occupations. Slept behind the couch with pizza in my hand
Remember that time we got drunk tomorrow
When you get home...find me in the shower. Only safe place at the moment.
The last thing I remember is him yelling from across the room "WE FINISHED THE HANDLE!"
It was 11pm.
Is Oprah even human
Shout out to my liver for being the true MVP. It easily put in more work than LeBron or Curry this week.
The fact that the praying hands are in my top emojis defines how 2016 is going so far
Me and mom just bonded over our mutual desire to bang Mark Ruffalo. I'm not sure how to feel about this.
We had sex to Hey Arnold, Rugrats, and All That. I feel like my life has come full circle.
Randomize
