She left me a voicemail too. It's just her moaning her name repeatedly
my feelings for you are synonymous with those of a grizzly bear and salmon. i don't want to nom on you; but i need you to survive
i just realized that the oil change sticker on my windshield is a day before the last time i had sex. I've driven exactly 10500 miles since.
you need to get laid.. and an oil change.
As it turns out, strippers don't accept checks.
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I am currently listening to someone take a shit. I hate the hole in the ceiling.
Hey hey, in my defense we were just suppose to watch Disney movies from a blanket fort with beer and nachos. I was I suppose to know it would end in tears?
sea world and a strip club? BEST DAY EVER!
What happened to my face?
You kneed yourself in the eye during the Harlem Shake.
It was impressive.
Yuck. My throat feels like someone chucked a couple of Maltov cocktails down it and finished it off with a super soaker filled with Jameson.
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Like I actually don't feel all that great but the fact that I'm not projectile vomiting at work makes life seem so magical
I don't need my coworkers thinking I'm a nutcase.
You gift wrapped a tampon.
So I definitely fucked a guy while holding on to his pigtails like reigns last night.
The most literal cowgirl position ever.
Also, can next Friday be Long Underwear Friday instead of Jockstrap Friday? Because I'm about to cough up a testicle.
Every time I started to really hate the guys on tinder, the universe throws me a muscly beardy bone.
He asked when the last time I had sex was. I had to look at the clock and respond "12 hours ago"