i've decided to use this saturday afternoon to take care of my pube situation
There is a mosh pit in our kitchen. You better hurry.
I was sitting on the floor of CVS chugging white grape juice until someone asked me to leave.
literally overdrew my bank account at 3 in the morning to eat subway with 7 sherriffs.
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
I'm not wearing underwear, I started my period this morning, and it's super windy. Recipe for disaster?
Someone just told me I could double date with them and their dog as my date. This is why the suicide rates are so high at the holidays.
I don't know what's more sad. The fact that I'm genuinely impressed about being sober for a whole 3 days or the fact that I want to get wasted in celebration.
There is nothing quite so pathetic as sitting in bed in your underwear eating easy mac in complete silence, waiting for Netflix to load
Stop watching porn on my work computer.
STOP WORKING ON MY PORN COMPUTER.
Summers almost over and we haven't golfed, got naked or had sex yet. Let's do all three in one day, no particular order.
So this is what it's like to wake up with someone else's blood in your nose...
Wish me luck. My vagina needs it.
May his noodley appendage touch you.
Jarrod's passed out on the chair with a cup of milk and I've been staring him down in an attempt to use telepathy to make him spill it. Attempts unsuccessful.
so it turns out that when you ride the subway drunk at 5 am you wake up with a sailor in your bed
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