So I'm on the can right now reading a court transcript for an appeal. Some dude is paying $155 an hour for me to take a shit.
Clearly he doesn't understand my need to be surrounded by cats at all times
I have to be home in time to watch my friend on that Lifetime show about having babies. And by friend, I mean the girl I had a lesbian experience with at a party 3 years ago.
Did you like my voicemail? Sounded like I was being murdered, right?
By a pack of ravenous dildos
If you're asking how many times you took off your clothes and played with the tiki torches.....the answer is 3.
I realized I was totally the dude in that hook up. I came first and didn't wanna help him finish. And he had paisley sheets.
I normally need adult supervision or a babysitter, but I refuse to let someone keep me from making irresponsible and wrong decisions at the bar on my last bday ill ever have in texas
In light of your oncoming completion of twenty-three years of personhood, I feel a pressing need to blast country-pop phenomenon Taylor Swift's hit single "22" in your general direction until midnight.
So I'm guessing that puking on a camper is a straight path to instant termination?
I just walked out of the side door of the bar to come in the front door so no one would know I've been here drinking before our work meeting.
I'm like 89% sure I could get him to buy me a car in exchange for a half-assed handy.
Since moving to the suburbs, all I do is fuck my ex and watch cartoons. It's not so bad.
WAIT this kid is eating yogurt with a fucking ladle. what is happening?
You think you can just send me a picture of your dick and everything will be ok?
Yep.
If you ever get divorced...would you call me??
Randomize
