Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
After I told my husband the docter shot me in the ass, he said - oh they can but I can't?!
you came home covered in oatmeal wearing a tutu holding a stolen wrotting pumpkin and "its a girl" balloons tied around your neck.you were whispering the lyrics to aaron carters 'aarons party'. i think the real question was what DIDNT you drink last night
he took off my shirt and said 'oh my god the legends are true'
2 am we went back to his house. his mom handed us beers and cooked us pancakes. the next morning his dad had washed my car. i lied. living at home after college definitely does not suck.
You kept spitting the skittles out cause you said they tasted like "balls of sandpaper"
$5 long island pitchers = roommate pissing on his laptop at 3am.
He asked me "did you used to go to church" while we were having sex.
He gave me the award for most entertaining blow job. That should count for something.
He fucked me in his tour van, I feel like an official groupie.... Except I don't even listen to his band.
If you recall, I made a Zoolander reference almost immediately after you pulled out of me the first time we had sex.
I just mixed tangerine juice with sauv blanc. on an unrelated note, my episide of intervention is slated to run in April.
That's because I've spent the past 21 years convincing my parents the only emotions I have are sarcasm and bitterness.
While he was fucking me, he just stopped and said, "Mike says Hi." Then proceeded to fuck me.
What did you do?
What do you say to that!? But, when I came, I screamed out my full name.
Im glad your laughing because im currently convincing my penis you didnt mean it and its all gunna be ok.
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