There are traffic cones in the living room. One of them is yours.
I've been emailing with a woman. I don't think she's into me, but we've become sorta email buddies. I'm hoping to meet her because on her profile she states she's into 'fisting.' Frankly the thought kinda freaks me out but I'm dying to see what kind of woman is 1) into that and 2) admits it upfront.
I think I'm pregnant with his hipster baby. It keeps kicking my stomach to the beat of mgmt songs.
BTW. If I show up really drunk and dressed a cowboy, don't be alarmed
I accidentally lit my hair on fire and we broke the bed. How was your night?
To tired for the bar. Came home and drank wine out of the bottle. Kind of don't want to know what that says about my life.
I mean like, my liver will beg my brain for mercy. Brainll be like I'm Greg Jennings. Liverll be like I'm Darren Sharper. Brainll be like hold my diiiiick.
I'm at a bar where I literally walked in to the bathroom and some chick told me to never go to San Joaquin state pen
but we were going camping. it only made sense to bring the 6 ft bong
Ok, they now been on the roof for two days. I can see 4 cases of teecate and a carton of smokes. They are yelling at "fucking fall" and pissing off the roof.
I'm sending midget strippers dressed as bull fighters with mini bottles of 1800 to your house. Already made the call. Jer is going halves on it. Can't be stopped! Won't be stopped!
What is my life coming to that I have to cross state lines to get laid?
Dude I'm hungover as fuck in a bed in Baltimore with another man... I don't think I can make it.
Look, all I'm saying is that you're going to be a great Vodka Mom.
Im riding the bus with beer in one hand and chapagne in the other. I love weddings.
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