we have a love-hate relationship...we love having sex but hate waking up next to eachother
the jail released me with 39 mardi gras beads. I need details.
I wish my new phone didn't autocorrect so well. People will never experience the magic of my drunk texts because they think I'm making a coherent statement.
Every perfect package comes with a warning label.
They're here. One showed up as a slutty Crayola, and I think the other came as The Fat Friend.
He passes out, I smoke his kush. All's fair in love and a disappointing lack of sex.
running the faucet water is not hiding the sound of you vomiting. fyi.
I went to grab his drink and my hand grazed his dick. It was magical.
I want the one making out with the dumpster. Is that bad?
Fantastic. I'm pretty cold, tired, dirty, and hungry, but that comes with an adventurous weekend. Who needs a wallet or keys anyway? I could totally be homeless.
I am making dinner in lingerie and heels and there is a 75% chance his roommate is going to walk in on this.
Yup. There he is. This conversation is awkward.
I paid off a credit card today. And I was tested negative for HIV. AND I did laundry. Honestly, I'm most excited about the laundry.
I really don't know how I went from having a few drinks to waging war against ghosts in my apartment but here we are
you were grinding on the cop whispering for him to lend you his tazer.
I can’t shake the image of her gigantic black unibrow. It’s like I got a blowie from Eugene Levy
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