It's Friday. Sex?
i just got a clause named after me in the 'alcohol and drug use' section of the handbook. this is certainly a warning sign.
good thing vaginas are great cup holders
I swallowed and made him pancakes in the morning. I feel almost as desperate as Jennifer Aniston at this point.
he calls his bong barack obonga, commander in kief. i found where i belong.
so this was truly a case of the blacked out leading the blacked out.
Okay, guy from work I want to fuck just told me he liked the font on my PowerPoint presentation. It is so on.
Make me proud, climb that corporate ladder.
you were leaning against the vending machine asking if there was a shower you could puke in.
The bartender just asked me if I owned stock in Jameson. I've been here for less than an hour and he's already judging me.
Good news. Hiccups are gone. Bad news. I had to set the bathroom rug on fire to get rid of them. Don't come home until the fire truck leaves.
I feel like my nipples were chewed on by alligators.
ask me again when I'm sobewr aka tuesday
We need to get you laid. Or i fear you might explode like a firework of sexual innuendos and unfulfilled erotic fantasies.
Every minute you wait for the sex that's not gonna happen, we're missing a tone deaf, drunk, tard-asaurus rex half-sing a 90's song to a bunch of other dinotards at karaoke.
Did you feel uncomfortable?
For a little while. Then I got really high and ate a bunch of animal crackers out of some dudes pocket while we chilled on their super comfortable couch.
Randomize
