i have the juiciest gold medal in my pants
she sang that "this little piggy song" to my balls. and somehow made it work, with me only having two balls instead of five.
It's like that depressing moment when you drop your cocaine in the snow.
she added emergen-c to the bong-water bro, brilliant.
But i guess when you use blowjob as a verb you are entitled to some language allowances
she's crying and begging for her chapstick and insisting on walking home...her every thursday ritual
i sent you a picture of beads you send me a picture of boobs how hard is this to understand
I did sing regulators with a random black dude at The Rail without looking at the screen, hugged him and walked off stage. I pretty much live up to all expectations.
Other than my penis smelling like an ashtray, it went really well.
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.
Best line overheard at the bar: "This is the last time I'm shaving my ass for him...I mean we just broke up".
I haven't even had my coffee yet and you're being slutastic
I really have to stop going to the movies high. Spending $10 to not know what the fuck is going on is starting to get pricey.
Basically all I do anymore is get stoned with my cats, and then we share goldfish.
I'm scrolling through our convo thread and all we talk about is pizza, alcohol & dick with the occasional "I miss you" thrown in.
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