If he eats mayonnaise, he's not getting laid. End of story.
the Monday before Thanksgiving is not a Monday at all. Just Thursday in Monday suit.
I would also like to inform you that I can no longer lay on my back because my tailbone is bruised from the nightstand. Good job.
I had a dream about a turtle sitting on top of a horse skull. I'm certain its a symbol for my dead sex life. Trust me.
I'm having a staring contest with a raccoon.
Where the hell are you
He's winning.
Was that picture taken before or after I supposedly punched him in the face?
I figure a girl that drinks as much as I do should always have pregnancy tests on hand
I used a jello pudding cup as a shot chaser last night. I'm the Bill Cosby of alcoholics
I'm sorry I didn't respond. I had a shit day. However, I just masturbated to Adele's Rolling In the Deep while crying. It was oddly therapeutic.
The only reason I know his name is because we wrote marriage vows in orange crayon on the back of a Walmart receipt.
You knocked on your freshman year room door, told the kids who opened it "I own you", and attempted to force-feed them everclear.
You were silly, high, and chewing on things.
Are we at that point yet where I can just say "I want you to sit on my face"? If not, want to go out for "drinks"?
Maid of honor screwed up the joke so I just got to explain what a strap on is and why a married lady might want one to Grandma and my brother's wedding shower.
Mimosas make me so tired. I just ordered a huge thing of pasta and gonna eat it in my underwear like a bad bitch
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