God help me. Come pick me up. The guy told me this is not a hotel and i had to leave.
I know I'm all grown up when I don't have to take my pregnancy test in the store bathroom anymore.
I mean, I'm all about sharing, but when he tells me about his wet dreams about Oprah, I think it's taking it too far.
Every time I roll over in bed I land on a different vibrator. I feel I'm the only one with this problem.
I'm promoting my liver to CEO of my body cause it clearly works harder than anything else.
New York City is dangerous when the only bars you go to are the ones that have 'open' in front
So his roommate walked in on us, went upstairs to tell her bf she has found a new use for the rafters & they must try it.
I think I'm at a stage of my life where I subconsciously purposefully fuck everything up just to see if I can find a way out of it.
Now: to brush my teeth, put on my grandma slippers and earplugs, masturbate to 50 Shades and then PTFO
I did wake up to a random meat and cheese plate next to my bed, that was a thrill.
I feel like that xmas present negates everything we were taught as little girls. Putting out DOES pay. God bless us everyone
That's because I've spent the past 21 years convincing my parents the only emotions I have are sarcasm and bitterness.
My life is pants optional.
are you inviting me to ice cream?
the subtext of everything i say to you is inviting you to ice cream
are you still alive?
no.
i'll cry at your funeral. and leave a burrito by your tombstone
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