i just shit 3 out of the 4 types of matter
i would rather give Shaq a handjob than take this accounting final
My mom asked what the mark on my neck was - I told her I burned it with a straightener.
She believed that the monsterous hickey on your neck was a burn?
well, not really. but then i reminded her that my sister has yet to take that pregnancy test and she conviniently forgot about my hickey
How do I tell my mom that she just went to the gym with my water bottle filled with vodka...
i want to cheat with him just to show his girlfriend what a terrible person he is.
If she asks the cat was vomiting before I fed it fried calamari
okay. this is james and youre probably never ever gonna see me again unless i really really really want some pussy. sorry.
we've been together for three years, and i still get excited when i know i'm going to give him a blow job. it's that kind of love
who knew i was capable of sobriety and human-like emotions all in the same night?
You're fine
I'm hiding in my chest because my walls smell weird. I'm not fine.
Why is your name written on my hand surrounded by hearts and a bartenders phone number?
Queso dip and pictures of Daniel's penis. It's like the last days of Rome over here.
Found my underwear in a solo cup. That about sums up this weekend.
I think I'm going to add the date I dumped his sorry ass as a life event on FB.
I think that's justified.
My favorite bra is missing and I smell like beer and bad decisions. This is definitely a sign that hoe mode is activated.
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