The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
It is virtually impossible to listen to single ladies and perform any seated task.
you were passed out in your cheese fries by the time he brought out your second order of french toast.
And it just wouldn't be a Thursday night without me having to cuss out a foreigner. The streak continues.
The magic cards should have been the first clue. The comments that I have "amazing birthing hips" and that I'm "beautiful in a child bearing sort of way just sealed his fate.
my goal is to not remember how i make a living by 9pm saturday night
Also, your vagina needs a time out and let your brain have a chance to make decisions.
I got written up at work for smelling like sex and vodka. Still not sure how they put that into professional terms.
My chest smells like french fries. Get at me attractive men.
btw my ex came by last night and saw the pregnancy test intructions. awkwarrrrd.......
I literally farted midsex as a siren for him to get the fuck off me.. No such luck.
So are we just not going to talk about the time I came home to you jerking it in the kitchen?
someday i'll meet a man and who loves me as much as i love getting drunk and starting fires
I think even the taco bell employees judged me
In honor of Randy Savage we're wearing spandex and handing out slim jim's with option to suplex. Get behind it
Randomize
