I was just tapping my foot in the bathroom at Penn Station just PRAYING for anonymous sex. You know how that goes.
Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
tonight lets celebrate not being married
He came on my chin and called me cumbledore. i give up.
We are lost and the only things we have are peanut brittle, cookies and vodka. I think we'll make it.
Well at least he is okay. If you call the fetal position in my living room floor "okay"...
I feel like everytime I call him he's either fucking or getting into trouble. It's really disturbing that he presses the answer button and then proceeds to fuck her harder.
That money I left you should go to the stripper that fell asleep in your bed. Sorry
Totally forgot Mike has only one ball. Is it sad I'm excited to see it? Or shall I say the lack of it?
From the same High Brittany who brought you such thoughts as, "Fuck, am I wearing shoes?" Comes High Brittany on a date! Stay tuned. This will be interesting.
Those tiny little fruit fly looking mofos. They fly past the phone and I grabbed them like Daniel-San
He called us the '3 Amigos' and told us if hos ex wife came we had to jump the porch railing and hide in the bushes.
It's whatever. I just want to see his dick again
I just woke up on my neighbors floor with my boots on, but no pants. I have 3 separate taco bell receipts in my pocket.
not only did u rap a voicemail to me last night.... but it lasted so long that it cut you off so you called back to finish..... never do this again
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