Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
I have had it with that bitchy sack of crazy. Iam done!
I'm reducing my diet to vodka and rice cakes.
If you fuck her, Im going to call you and I want you to cough 2 times.
I walked in on you eating olive oil off of a plate. you gave me this look and I just started crying. we were that drunk.
That's the first time I've ever heard something that tickled both my gag reflex and my penis simultaneously.
can i text him and be like "oh yeah, forgot i kinda made out with a girl this weekend. For future reference, does this count as cheating?" ?
Next time we smoke don't let me talk. I just said something and it sounded like I was speaking in hashtag.
I had a sex dream. With two guys. And my subconscious decided to put your dick on BOTH OF THEM. If there is a society where that does not mean "I cherish you" I do not want to live there.
Went to take a shower. Brought my wine, forgot my towel.
Black magic does not go near my vagina, it's a rule
Beer. Pizza. Seething Rage. I will be full of two of these things tonight. You get to decide which two.
I'm still mad from all the stupid shit he's done this week that even though I couldn't give two shits about Vday, I'm gonna throw an epic tantrum if he doesn't morph in to Nickolas Sparks for a day
All time low: no dry towels so I'm using the sex towel to dry off
I just sent a Slack that autocorrected tomorrow to gonorrhoea. Please note that Slack autocorrect isn’t very good.
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