Well I left you a voicemail but you probably won't be able to hear it because my mic is fucked up. I think you need to come down here and take it in for me.
I hate this phone so bad I'm going to lose all of my friends because of it
Yeah...you probably will...
well, you're marked off my christmas card list for next year.
I haven't been laid since Bush was president.
She def said "you had your chance!" after telling me she had a boyfriend. Like a pile of dogshit lecturing me on how I missed out on having itself stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
I'm tempted to see how fat I can get before he leaves me. It's obvious we're playing a game of chicken here.
know what the best part about malls are? standing on the upper level and boob gazing
Woke up this morning on my couch at 6am fully dressed including heels, holding half a corn dog. I called you last night when I was buying the corn dog from a street vendor, I think.
I am in love with you.
walk of shame into the pharmacy with a busted up chin and laughing the lady at the counter rolled her eyes at me when I asked for the morning after pill.
Im making gravy in a lace bra and jeans. Just call me the southwern wet dream
im like basted in vodka, i went tanning and it was like i was an alcoholic turkey being cooked in a locker of doom
Piecing together the sordid story from witness accounts and photographic evidence, courtesy of Fcebook. My night included Mojitos, lighting the bar on fire and declaring myself the Queen of Nerds when I stole someone's flashing tiara. Woke up this morning with a velvet cape and plastic scepter to match. Mojitos are awesome!
I was wearing my get used bookstore shirt when we fucked. Ironic yet appropriate.
I never thought my Saturday night would end up with someone crawling around my carpet for 3 hours trying to pick up spilled coke...
I never thought my Saturday night would end up with ME crawling around your carpet for 3 hours trying to save my investment.
Can't decide if it was more awkward buying sheets together or disposing of them afterwards
I'm now consulting a magic eight ball on all major life decisions. On another note I think I have chlamydia.
Worst case scenario- he paid me for sex with meatloaf. There are worse thing, right? I mean at least is was good meatloaf.
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