I like complaining with weaving words and complex sentences. It makes me seem more sophisticated and less bitchy.
I think its a sure sign I need to get laid when every cloud in the sky looks like a penis.
I have on cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat. I'd say I'm a little past tipsy
It's like playing clue with my own life. I have to piece together what I did, where I was, how I did it, and who I did it to
I have to have sex with him again. I feel like I need to train him so no other girl experiences that bad of sex.
He just kept pointing to each of us saying "arrested, arrested, arrested"
It was cool in an 'oh shit I'm gonna get arrested' way.
Best oral ever, hands down so to speak. but I'm starting to want to meet that lesbian truck driver he says he's better than. Just for comparison purposes of course.
I just realized the only way to play Edward forty-hands is commando in a skirt. This intelligence kick is really doing me justice.
yesterday you declined a drink because you "didn't want to be responsible for it" ok kanye...
Cry into your wine glass and then drink the tears, it's like the fountain of youth
I think I should start a match.com profile and put "robe lounging" as my only hobby
Fuck you. I've got onesies to keep me warm at night. And this bottle.
Got a $290 noise violation last night for shouting "THE KING OF THE NORTH" til 2 am
Bro, I live in a constant state of existential dread and moderate ennui. The prospect of cosmic horror doesn’t faze me that much.
Randomize
