By the way the fattest man alive got married yesterday and I don't even have a boyfriend.
I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
she just stood in the kitchen yelling "REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES"
I wish my period boobs were my regular boobs.
Ya know, in a round about way coinstar is just a glorified vending machine for all my bad choices.
Well, there are worse ways to make $50 at a gay club.
and my attempt at hiding my drunkness from my parents included walking into the wall as soon as they let me into the house.
3 things. 1) we need alcohol 2) we need alcohol 3) we need tortilla chips. Let's make a plan. Bro shakes and salsa.
And don't try to lose a condom in me tonight. My vagina is not a storage compartment where you can just leave something and try and use it again later in the week.
I took your mattress from your bed. Don't ask questions. Love you. See ya later.
When you are old and getting humped by saggy balls every other weekend you are gonna wish you had more sex with freshly legal boys. Your vagina will thank you one day. Don't let her down.
I have vodka and explosives. For once, we can blow something up that isn't a blow-up doll.
My vagina needs her own mother sometimes.
all i remember is arguing with the chick that yahoo was better than google
all you were doing was yelling YAHOOOOO in her face
so i won
when i saw him today i think my vagina did the equivalent of a stomach growl... its been to long
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