Let's just say he looked at my vagina like it was a rubics cube.
he asked me to marry him on one of those scrolling message belt buckels.... what now?
guy at the corner shop gets out a bottle of tequilla and a pack of malboro light whenever he sees me through the door. makes me feel loved and cared for
his genitalia just looks like a thumbs up. a really really small thumbs up.
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Your tequila is gone. I suggest you bring more home before you go out for dinner. Money is taped to mailbox.
WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THERE WAS A LOAF OF BANANA BREAD IN THE OVEN BEFORE YOU LEFT FOR A 5 HOUR SHIFT??
I'm buying you potatoes, the least you could do is not ask any fucking questions and just say thank you.
That's unfortunate. Distance can be a stoner's greatest enemy.
You make it sound like a battle for Middle Earth.
we found you in the kitchen at five am trying to make a vodka omelette. you said you didn't want to live in a world where your two favourite things couldn't be together.
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Some guy wearing a horse mask just knocked on my door and started whinnying. I opened the door and he was like, "...oh sorry, wrong room..." so awk.
When this bachelor party is over and your life is in ruins, you have my permission to die.
I mean honestly, I love naps like Anthony Weiner loves sending dick pics
No, the high point was when you stood on a chair and shouted you were the god of tits and wine.
But truly, sorry about your empty vagina
I'm somewhere between crying and wanting to orgasm.