I specifically asked you not to be slutty tonight.
Threw my underwear in my purse as I was running away after sex last night, went to pick up my birth control prescription this morning, took out my wallet and accidentally flung my sweet thong onto the counter in front of the cashier. Think that was the universes way of telling me I am a whore.
Well. Nothing came of that. And to think I manscaped and dusted with gold bond.
Just had to explain to a senior manager why I had duct tape residue on my wrist and hand. This weekend was a success.
I wonder if I could sublet my bathtub to anyone.
You insisted that you sleep on the bear rug instead of the couch. You said it was lonely and you kept on petting its head.
It took him three days to realize his roommate had moved out.
Look I know it's late and I hope this doesn't wake you up but I feel like you should know that I'm sleeping on my couch in my own apartment so that my friend can get laid in my bed, and I would do the same for you.
You know it's been a while when you're having to resort to positive conditioning to get women
I have tan lines from my nipple rings.
They had like literally all the dildos. It looked like a seance for dick. I left the apartment and haven't been back.
My autobiography will be 500 pages of the words "I probably should've thought this through" typed over and over.
Bank just called....we left my debit card in the ATM last night.
No I'm not lying to you. I'm just not telling you the whole story. There's a massive difference.
We're playing drunken roulette. We're taking exlax followed by shots. First person to shit themselves loses!
Randomize
