Sorry about your blender, your tiolet, your weed, and your dog...
I'm eager to hear this explaination.
It's been two days. My balls feel like watermelons.
how did my horoscope know i was too hungover to operate a stove.
Like, he's a nice guy. But he's better at fingering than he is at speaking.
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We fucked to showtunes. Never going out with a theatre major ever again.
My mom is lecturing me about 'invaluable housekeeping skills' while I google 'cocktails involving gin' on my phone. I can feel the generational gap looming in her silent judgment of my choices.
On the 3rd day, she mixed sangria and orange juice and saw that it was good.
So did you grab that log full of poison ivy for the fire and then apparently take a piss on Saturday night too or was that just me?
will we ever learn or are we destined for a life of poison ivy covered balls?
Oh please not the Easy Cheese again. That was weird.
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I told him I was on the pill and it was OK to fire away. I want to never have to wear panty house or ever go to an office again. This is my early retirement plan. I want half of his NBA money.
Girl you know I'm an advocate of debauchery but you might wanna check yoself.
He said he loved me more than Kel loves orange soda
the result of growing up in the '90's
Just woke up with only a scarf and my uggs on. i hate partying naked in winter.
That's nice of you to be concerned, but I'm pretty confident I'll marry someone 30 years older than me, ride out being the trophy wife for 10 or 15 years, then live large!
Every time I look at him 'Relax' by Frankie Goes to Hollywood plays in my head. Is that weird?
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