i don't remember her name, but i don't need it unless we decide to hook up again. but even then, i can get away with not knowing it for a while. it's not like we have actual conversations.
Farted during a conference call.SBD. permeated the room people were gonna puke.noone could say anything or leave cus we were on the phone with clients. coworkers were outraged.how I still have a job is beyond me.
she's got a whisker from her dead cat taped to the wall. I'm pretty sure that about sums it up...
I Just realized that having a picture folder that says "not for mom" may give off the wrong impression to wondering eyes
Here's an idea...how about I take shots by myself and drunk dial you around noon?
Somehow I managed to make my Dunkin Donuts uniform look slutty. And I'm not even wearing hoops.
THEY HAVE A VOMIT TROUGH.
What?
A TROUGH FOR VOMIT.
Remember that time we became friends because I shotgunned a Tall Boy in your bathroom?
Those memories are both hazy and awesome.
We should give each other good-luck-on-your-finals head in the morning.
In local news, attempts to hide phone from extremely drunk self prove unsuccessful for Dallas woman.
...and if you can get the necessary ingredients to make the Buffalo Chicken Melt, I will latch forever at your Teat of Justice.
I ask him how he's going, like life and stuff, and he responds "20-0 pats"
There's hope in those eyes, for a better tomorrow or more cocaine, we may never know, but there's hope.
It's not even a normal fucking affair I've found myself in. It's a fucking bdsm clusterfuck.
Are we planning this because I am online looking for places with a Mechanical bull
Randomize
