every time i drive by the road she lives on, i scream in the car "i'm sorry i'm sleeping with your boyfriend!" makes me feel less whore-y.
Fiestas. Its like a classier verson of mardi gras.
you know how you have to have just the right ratio of chips to sandwich? same goes for pubes.
I told her I'd give her some of the cream I was using so she didn't get my warts. That's when I realized I was too drunk.
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I feel like after all he sees, the dog needs to get baptized.
I was walking around outside with a basket of eggs. I feel like little house on the prairie: hungover edition.
i decided i'll just settle for a gay guy who can manage to fuck me like the straight guys do. but here i go again, talking about my dream man.
I didn't realize how drunk I was until my vagina was in the snow.
I almost put an adult beverage in my sippy cup for the beach but realized the next step would be rehab.
No the next step is being buzzed at the beach. I would've.
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Passing out drunk in my therapists lobby may not be the best way to confirm my "stability"
I wore my Gollum shirt. It struck up a conversation AND got him staring at my boobs. That's a win-win.
I feel I should send an apology letter to my anesthesiologist.
He walked into the bar with a pineapple and they served him AND the pineapple
Lol, perhaps. But the drinks are so cheap, the music is better, and the bartenders and bouncers all know my name. I can't abandon it, even if it is a gay bar, its still my Nirvana.
we went to go have morning sex and I said “I was gonna put my mouth on it but you need to shower”#ruinedthemoment
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