Dude, you just left me a 3 minute voicemail of pop rocks in your mouth. Im sitting right next you
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
I am at a bar watching a rat tail get braided.
I don't know what's more sad having a rewards account at a liquor store or already racking up 273 dollar points since january
Fuck him tonight for the both of us. We're still tag-teaming in spirit.
I booked us a cruise for November. Lose 20 pounds and don't cheat on me before then.
I'm sure that's not what the inventers of the Turkey baster had in mind, but that's what I had in mine.
I went out in a blaze of glory. I failed the field sobriety test by saying ABCD FUCK YOU.
I can feel your movements against the shared wall we are leaning up against. It makes me feel as though we are one. Queue Pocahontas song...
Hi I am too sober and out of rum. Translation: I owe you some beer. Also, get better taste in beer.
you said you wanted to call me grandma and give me hugs
I can hear the pillow talk now, "how many condoms did you bring? Good, put them all on,"
don't judge but I think I'm gonna go fuck a dad this weekend
Woke up to I'm AWESOME written in purple crayon all over my walls. I love drunk me
It's so weird fucking this kids aunt then going to the gym with him everyday, but my sick minded self loves it.
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