I need to shower the guilt off of my thighs.
Even my Mr Clean Magic Eraser can't make last night disappear.
I found my laptop, credit card, and a bottle of Morgan all on the counter this morning. I'm scared to see what gets delivered to my house this week.
I have a voicemail from Mike at 1am. He starts to say something, but then throws up instead.
What part of "you pissed in the tent" do you not understand?
Just when I think I'm the one with the problem, I get home for the holidays and the family shows me what alcoholism is really about
his blanket is still in the back seat of my car, its like a constant reminder of his small penis
Oh come on. There's no way I was the only female choir student taking shots in the back room.
I want a MapMyFart App, where I can mark every spot where I have ripped one. Like here.
WHY DOES HE HAVE TO CALL WHEN I'M MASTURBATING?! This time I'm really pissed. It's like he knows he's depriving me of orgasms.
I just want to trick people into going on dates with me so they can bring back to their houses and let me use their wifi.
Why even have a ground level apt if you're not gonna let me climb out the window? I hate walk of shaming in front of toddlers...
Things are coming back to me in chunks. I vaguely remember signing a shirt that said 'I enjoy vagina'
I AM SO PROUD OF YOU
I think I just figured out how to make weed tea in the coffeemaker.
Rationing the toilet paper. Only one wipe allowed. I'm scared to move too much.
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