sorry i'm running a bit late. had to shave my brittney...was looking more like rapunzel. clearly i've been having a drought.
There's trophy wives that arent even in the 5th grade yet
I just got sparklers from my secret santa. Drunken sledding just got to a whole new level of dangerous
beyond obliterated. i recall legitimately trying to use a ballpoint pen as eyeliner.
We're sitting in his room writing songs about America. There's a verse about a dead dog. There's tequila everywhere.
but I'll probably watch some porn later so it's not a complete waste of a Saturday night.
The goal for tonight is vagina. In and around. Doesn't matter who. How. Or why.
I was able to hide the fact that I had just shit in my pants, and then wupped her ass at FIFA
You just kept screaming "COME GET ME OFFICER, MY ALLIGATOR MEANS BUSINESS" while swinging a beanie baby alligator at him.
Just to clarify, I'm still tripping balls
On an unrelated note, I've come up with a theory of everything
At the funeral we'll say nice things, like "She was delightfully extreme, psychotically wonderful, and could probably drink all you fuckers under the table."
That's literally the perfect eulogy
I'n not even sure we went out, but I know we broke into a cemetery.
I told myself I'd stop after three shots of fireball. Haha HA hA.
The fact that I bookended my summer with pregnancy scares doesn't upset me. The fact that he's a trombone major does...
she stuffed her marc jacobs purse full of cereal
classy
Randomize
