Note to all middle aged "I totally let myself go after childbirth" frumpy mothers: I do not dress this way for your husbands. Stop looking at me like that. It's not my fault.
Stage 55 clinger. not a typo. I cannot even believe this shit.
Tempting. But I already used the alcohol poisoning excuse at work this month. No way he would believe it a second time...
I dont even remember coming home... All my stuff is strewn randomly around my apartment... And I woke up at 5 sitting propped up in my bed with just my arm in a shirt
I'm pretty sure that when my parents bought me those savings bonds they thought it would go towards something useful like tuition. Not your bail.
I told you I'd buy you lunch.
I was mixing candy canes and coors light and was in a great place.
I feel like as your wife, as cool with your decision-making skills as I usually am, there should be a bigger explanation to you adopting a child while I'm in Houston.
I want to throw pennies on her stage, or just ripping up a dollor bill and throw them one at a time.
You kept going up to guys in plaid and screaming "are you a lumberjack" in their faces
I have a lot of questions this morning, most of them start with "Did I..."
We haven't been trashed enough to shut down a bar together in four days. I'm starting to worry that we're growing apart.
I have a 30 minute video visit blind date tonight with a guy in prison. And it's costing me $9. ROCK... BOTTOM...
Adderal can only make me focus so much. Your ass is stronger than my medicine. Congratulations.
Like I didn't gracefully walk into these feelings. No, I fucking stumbled and fell face fucking first.
Would you be so kind as to inform your husband that my truck is forever cursed by mashed potatoes and it's his fault.
Randomize
