the recession has oofficially hit my standards.
its simple. when his lips are on my clitoris i want to marry him. when they are speaking i want to kill him.
He gave me a book last time I slept there. Im beginning to feel like a really weird hooker. Like instead of money he gives me random shit he has lying around. like hamburger buns
i've learned that i'm good at stealing things. like live cats.
He scratched off my spray tan. Literal nail marks down my back. Can't imagine what's underneath his fingernails.
If you have a glass table... Put it up. I don't wanna hurt myself again, I just got my stitches out...
My boss walked in on me puking in the urinal while taking a piss. Sunday funday is eroding my last shred of credibility at work.
That would be a mascot riding an ATV at a semi-professional hockey game, if that doesn't sum up how I've been I don't know what could
Okay who let me pass out in a recliner cuddling a pitbull and a cardboard cutout of Orlando Bloom
Also this time, I didn't have a random creepy guy come up from behind me, grab my junk, and whisper "where's the cocaine?" in my ear. So that's also a win.
after you got high, you started to make guac with your bare hands and said: "there's soda bubbles in my legs"
How many Wendy's frosties do you think it would take to fill a bathtub?
All I remember is receiving a lap dance to slow motion.
while on the topic of showers...why is there apple juice in our bathtub?
To celebrate the holidays this evening, I will be replying “FUCK YOU” to all my spam emails. Can’t tell you how excited I am
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