Just brushed my teeth...forgot we used this toothbrush in bed last night.
No, asshole. I'm not gay. But if I was I think I would do better than fucking Nick Lachey.
So, apparently I made everyone omelets last night. Even when I'm drunk, I'm still a trophy wife.
I think she's a little more wasted than usual. She just crawled on the floor to tell mom it was time to take a shot.
I honestly don't know what my boundaries are, but shitting on me is crossing them.
She sent me a text saying she picked out 17 different Halloween costumes for our kids when they hit the age of 4... The cling factor should have me running right now but honestly I'm just curious
at this point every shot is just a haymaker to my liver
she gave me one of those friendship bracelets and said as long as I wore it it was like an all-access pass to her vagina
I just canoed to the bar. I am a skilled drunk paddler.
He offered to let her do a line of coke off his hard-on. She said she'd had that hard-on and it would be a bump, not a line. Everyone laughed. That's why he left.
So that answers the first question but not the second: how the fuck am I getting home?
Sure go ahead and start this 'business' with him...just don't come crying to me when you have to fake your own death in two years
I am harder than a fucking diamond and Michael Bolton is playing. Your move.
A million fucking miles away, and the sun still manages to fuck my hungover mornings up.
I asked him to get me another beer, and he started making muffins.
One of my nipples looks nothing like the other...i don't know how this happened
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