come home now. i got a twizzler tangled in my hair again
It ended with me crying and eating pizza in my closet.
We need to go to the store an get depends. I really don't want to be bothered with the bathroom this weekend.
I can't tell if they're having sex or watching the beach scene from Saving Private Ryan. All I know is I hear explosions and men screaming and crying
I will tell my future kids about the time I went to the bar with a stomach virus. Like a champ.
WHO INVENTED HANGOVERS WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES
Seriously my only wish tonight is to be at the club in a sombrero w my shirt off pouring tequila on bitches titties
This message brought to you by inappropriate slogans. Cotton candy, melting in your mouth like boners.
"Douchebag of the Year" award goes to the guy who didn't reply to the picture of my tits.
YOU'RE CHANGING THE SUBJECT. I CAN BLOW SOMETHING UP OR I CAN TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, BUT ONE OF THE TWO IS BOUND TO HAPPEN
Yes but funny for a 45 year old hell bent on reliving her college days by giving body shots and hand jobs. Not necessarily in that order
So I woke up alone in the hotel room clutching a bible to my chest. Explain, please.
She is dumping me if she doesn't get a ring by Valentines. So one more month of free sex and it will be back to the right hand.
YOU TOOK A FUCKING SNAP OF ME TRYING TO PEE! I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU WITH THE BUSINESS END OF A RUTED RAKE!
Welcome aboard the S.S. struggle. I'll be your captain for today's voyage and Jeremy is your first mate. Just sit back and relax while we navigate the seas of drunken regret. Your forecast for the day is violently hungover with a chance of "shit, that really did happen!"
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