The only thing that would make my night better is if William Shatner came and read me a bedtime story.
I just found $40 in the jeans I wore last night. PS I also found the jeans I wore last night.
90 In a 65. Talked my way out of it with the i have to poop story. i am the ticket jesus
Is there a card that says "Sorry I got drunk at your Christmas party and tried to steal your monogrammed hand towels so that I could give you something nice for Christmas"?
It's "your husband had his mouth on my vagina" awkward.
Where the hell is he. I called him crying for weed and sex you would think that would signal some urgency.
My going away gift was all of them dancing around with solo cups on their dick and balls...these are my friends
I am gifting my birthday sex to you, but its okay because I can always just have birthday vibrator.
Didn't want you to think it had been open season on my vagina since we broke up.
That moment when you cant decide between eating spaghetti or a Popsicle for breakfast
I Pavlov-trained him by smacking him in the nuts anytime I caught him looking at another girl in public. To this day, he's afraid to break eye contact with me in a restaurant if a tall busty blonde walks in.
Drunk me obviously wants to fuck up my life
It's like I have an arch nemesis, and it's me
He didn't call me beautiful but he came in less than five minutes so same thing, right?
I mean metaphorically speaking, maybe we've all fucked on top of a frat house at some point in our lives
He is farting the alphabet right now. In the goddamned restaurant. You don't get to recommend men anymore. Or restaurants for that matter.
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