I woke up this morning under my fitted sheet and my legs through the sleeves of my sweater.
I guess the cop knew i was on a walk of shame and felt bad...i got to play with the siren the rest of the way home
I seriously just caught my 15 year old little sister with a positive pregnancy test coming out of the bathroom. Honest to God.
I have a coat hanger and a baseball bat. Her choice.
We have a drunken confused pantless man in our apt. Boots.
Your "OraGel will numb anything" theory was the worst thing I ever believed in.
Ask her if said friend is decent looking or a wildabeast. Need to know if I need to top these 8 coronas off with a little tequila.
You refused to get in the cab so we rock paper scissored to decide who walked you home and the fat guy was it. So don't blame your poor hook-up choice on me; it was all you.
Monday: I just need a drink Tuesday: OMG no more this week! Wednesday: oh shit how'd I get drunk Thursday: I'm glad you've stopped the pretenses
She's just so happy...and so naked.
Based on the time of Sean's "I'm on your street" phone call last night, we had sex for an hour and a half. Man, time flies when you're getting boned to an orgasmic death.
The number of people who end up getting laid as a result of the cha cha slide....is terrible.
Today's walk of shame includes last nights hair and make up, an 8 hour shift, me leading a meeting and me throwing up in a parking lot on my way to work. Dear world, you're welcome.
CUT OFF ALL YOUR HAIR COME ON MAN LET'S DO THIS
I still have to bake cookies and shave my legs so Mike can have MILF & cookies when he gets home.
That's a gentle way of saying I passed out like an 18-year-old on his first trip to Tijuana
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