Yours is on the dinner table...mine is in my underwear drawer.
peeing on that welcome mat was like, the highlight of my week
and i fell asleep on top of a grilled cheese sandwich. not the best decision. but not the worst.
My heart is having a hard time convincing my vagina he's not worth it.
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UPDATE: lighting the grill with Bacardi. Haven't slept. Forgot the hamburger buns. Almost out of our eighth handle.
...But it's not like we would be the first people to pay for an abortion with student loans and cell phone rebates.
He woke me up at 5am to recite nursery rhymes to our fictitious unborn child.
Your children are clinging to me like my teets are full of bountiful milkiness. They're driving me nuts. I felt my uterus shrivel up.
If tits could talk, mine would be bragging
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I had wine for breakfast at 6am, that's how visiting my parents went.
It's like the dark age of my sex life being stuck here
I had my first "Damn Kids/When I Was That Age" rant at work today. We need to drink this feeling out of me. NOW.
I'm pretty sure I regained my virginity last night
If you’re wondering why the bong is outside the garage door just know I was being environmentally efficient by not using the freezer to chill my shit
i just realized i have only had sex on couches so far this year. i can't decide if that's impressive or trashy
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