O.A.R does not stand for Old Recycled Abortions.
It was like a secret agent hookup. No names, swift execution, get in- get out.
Let's put it this way, it's 9am and that box of wine looks like the cure
He tried to slow-dance with me in bed. IN BED.
I'm pretty sure last night was the first time I've seen someone drink beer-soaked paper towels. Ever.
I woke up to a gnawing sound in the middle of the night and asked him what it was. He told me it was the family of squirrels that lives in the wall and to go back to sleep.
The guy you fucked with the lazy eye is here, im avoiding contact by texting you. But i just looked up and he recognizes me, theres no way he doesnt. I'd remember the girl who called me quasimodo all night too. Sober me feels so bad.
It was your ex but it was not eighties night, it was pudding wrestling. And either thank you or I'm sorry depending on the state of my pants left on the doorstep
I can taunt you with whatever I want. Like batman and sex.
Hey will pizza rolls help if you accidentally get a diabetic chihuahua drunk?
My goal is to not catch on fire... But if i have to dance im going to dance regardless of the danger
Also- should we send out holiday cards? That say, "Eat a dick, 2014"?
He's got the good dick trifecta - flip phone, works outside, bed with no headboard.
Chasing shots with airborne.. Gonna get rid of my sickness and my soberness.
He's the one named Andrew. In his profile picture he is the one on the right in the monkey costume.
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