I wish i could make my toaster dance like they do in the second ghostbusters. But i dont have ectoplasmic goo. Or a toaster.
you don't remember? you called me at 330 crying because you were in the middle of having sex with corey and forgot his name. all you kept saying was i'm a drunk bitch.
i cant cry in cvs. not again.
I'm eating mac and cheese for dinner that way when I puke later it'll be festive halloween orange.
I don't think he understands the importance of corndogs. Or condoms for that matter.
its all coming back to me in waves....waves of humiliation and nausea.
Trust me man, I did not put any cookies down your pants when you slept.
I am too drunk to be out in this weather around all these animals.
you realize you insisted on them having a dance off to korean music to determine who takes you home?
wanna mail me your GoPro for St.Patties and I'll mail it back to you coverend in puke?
I think you're my mermaid sister. Separated at birth, by sea.
Hooked up with a guy resembling a bearded Cher. I need the lenses on my beer goggles fixed. Pronto.
Then I did coke with my taxi driver where he then ended up paying me for the drive. You should try being a girl sometime it's super sick.
His encouragement of my recreational drug use is the backbone of our nonrelationship. That, and rough animal sex and loud music.
This year my vagina is giving thanks that several of my cubs are coming home for the holiday
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