There was an extended period of my adolescent life where my friends and I would get high, drive around in my minivan listening exclusively to the wu tang clan, and intentionally crash into snowbanks
I'd wear matching sweaters with you
i told him i was on my period. he said, and i quote "can we not just lay down some newspapers or something?"
right before he busted, he moaned the british are coming.
only on the fourth of july.
So I told her I dislocated my shoulder and she said "well okay. I can either be on top or blow you."
Decisions, decisions.
All he was doing was sitting in the car, staring. We asked him what was wrong and he just turned, smiled, and said "everything has its own pair of boots"
He told me he breastfed 'til he was six. That explains the obsession with me getting fake tits. Is it a red flag?
Too many sundays start with me waking up still drunk in my car.
How can someone be so bad at fingering? It's such a simple concept
This is gonna be a long day for my vagina and I
I have someone saved in my phone as "This Hoe Ain'tit' Loyal" and I'm missing my superman boxers. Explain.
I just found a reminder in my phone to ask you about your sex life in 7 years. So how is that going?
That's why my boobs are so big, they're full of secrets.
No I'm not high but I did cry for over an hour tonight because I realized that they never made a sequel to "Under the Tuscan Sun" with Diane Lane.
Well, for starters, you were growling and slurping beer from a puddle on the carpet. Let's all hope that was beer...
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