I always know the weekend is over when the real license comes out and the fake goes back into the hiding spot.
gave myself the "you're a really good girlfriend" talk on the way to where i intentionally cheated on him. i am my own drunken therapist.
I can't believe you broke a Paula dean wooden spoon over my ass
The difference between you and me last night was that I didn't remember getting into the cab and you didnt know we were in one.
She's laying here with her head in my lap stoned, eating Doritos, whining about her boyfriend, and listening to Cher. Fuck the friend zone.
He shoved his balls through an egg carton and showed us a picture. They were surprisingly egg-like.
I did the mature thing and subtweeted that bitch. She follows me so she'll see.
I just want him to come back from NOLA alive, without an arrest record or stripper glitter on his clothes...
Those seems like unreasonable expectations for a bachelor party honestly...
If i ever die cab you make sure bag pipes are at my funeral they are awsome
I got so drunk last night that I drunk texted myself. "hand jobs are the currency of the future"
Fuck that guy and his dumb haircut and awesome dick
How good was the sex? She sent me a fruit basket the next day.
Cheyanne in woods. Ducks attacked. My toe is bleeding. We are gpsing our way home on foot. No worries
woke up. showered n got ready. had sex. and was still 15 minutes early to work... its gonna be a good day!
So I came to the conclusion that who ever pour my ever clear out saved my life
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