I scissor kicked a one legged man last night.
He was trying to put me in handcuffs.
You have my attention.
Well to be completely honest its more of a 'i wanna do things to you that your parents would not enjoy hearing about' mood
I asked my mom, she said yes...but you have to shower with grandpa.
It's not weird mascara. I just have puke crusted on my eyelashes.
He turned down a handjob. A HANDJOB. I know I'm no Jessica Simpson, but...
Actually, she's fat now, so...
Fuck. I AM Jessica Simpson.
I don't care how drunk you were. Sending me a pic of your dick dressed as Uncle Sam with the caption "I want you" isn't an acceptable pick up line.
I'm thinking about wearing a strap-on just to freak him out the next time he pulls my pants off.
Jesus Christ. If I were a normal sex-having person, I'd think I was knocked up. I'm cycling through emotions like I'm in a decathlon to crazy.
First time since we broke up that I'm not drunk before noon...win for broken hearts everywhere
Would it be crossing a line if I told him that I now know his girlfriend has a huge mole on her left ass cheek?
I don't know if I'm more excited about getting chipotle or about getting laid
I don't think you understand...I'm really good at getting drunk
I never truly understood the phrase ball is life until I started having to balance NBA finals and all these men with balls i'd like to handle.
I just found (and ate) a chunk of a reese's that fell between my boobs. Problem is that I finished those off 3 days ago in a drunk induced sob session... Has it really been that long since I changed my clothes?!
Why did I wake up covered in glitter next to a half eaten cheeseburger?
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