i made sure i dropped the whole "im a yoga teacher" bomb which basically roofies a guys sense of judgement and guarantees he will sleep with me.
it was a 10 min screaming orgasm. i don't care that you were next door and didn't appreciate all the noise.
It came up in court that I told the arresting officer my name was Thomas Jefferson, and I was born in 1776. I almost kept a straight face. Almost.
I just realized my life is a timeline of drunken injuries.
It's just one of those nights that , as long as you have the drugs, everything is going to be alright.
It was like the devil him self busted his red hot satanic nuts all over my face and burned my eyes out of my innocent sockets.
"I gave a guy a handjob last night, on a dog bed, inside a fireplace. It's going to be a good year."
stop sending me battleship coordinates and get back here so i can suck your dick
Drunkness level: fluent in olde norse
I no longer believe that the road to self esteem is through his penis.
I came to the party for him. I don't know where he went, but I mentioned being hungry and his housemate brought me a huge tupperware container of berry cobbler. I think I'll stay.
Don't I can pass these orgasm blushes off as sunburn for much longer...
I take Paypal, cash, sexual favors, and roasted red potatoes with garlic as payment. You choose.
Gonna be late for work. Sex comes first. Priorities.
I've decided it's okay if I take a pregnancy test every month. Then I can be like, "Good job, self, way to not procreate this month!"
Randomize
