So, we're in the car ready to fuck and she asks about my ex. I wave at my lap and say, "bye". She asks what I'm doing. I say, "waving goodbye to my erection"
So I called her out for all the gossip she does and she's like "you do the same, bitch"
So I was like "Im classy like the Countess, youre just a bitch like Kim."
Kudos on the Interstate Housewife metaphor.
I managed to convince my mom that my hickey was a birth mark I have always had. She cried for an hour about being a terrible mother for never noticing it.
She made me put my jeans under her mattress so that I wouldn't leave in the morning while she was still sleeping. Apparently I just look like "that guy".
so I made out with a lobbyist last night. im officially a resident of D.C
found a ham sandwich in the elevator it tasted so hungry and it was still fresh. dont be mad at me. you know you love ham.
We left at the same time. You got home three hours after I did and said you got your head stuck in a fence. I can't believe you don't remember this.
I knew I fucked up when I woke up with the meat scissors in my hand.
Found my wallet. It was under my dresser with a note that said "good job you found me". Drunk me is an ass.
I was only out of town for 1 week. His cell records show he texted 63 ex-gfs and hookups while I was gone. And 10 condoms are missing.
You're not stopping till I see you on the ground trying to hold on to shit
And now we should drink to that moment where you realize you didn't exactly think things through.
Typical Sunday morning text...are you alive?
I have more important things to worry about than you drowning your cheerios in tequila.
I'm too drunk to remember your name. I'm too drunk to recall where i'm currently at. And i'm too drunk to give a shit.
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