i'm returning your mother's day gift to finance my alcoholism over the next week.
i've decided that sluts are like cars. they may look good as hell on the outside, but you never know what kind of shit is hiding under the hood.
Nothing says "get your life together" better than waking up in a tub full of your own vomit. Twice. In one night.
He told me all about his plan for proposing to his girlfriend as pillow talk.
He was completely serious when he said my boobs were like "majestic white clouds."
You are the only person I know that goes to a bar enough to charge your iPhone there....
Oh btw, my mom called... you made the police blotter in the newspaper. Don't worry, she's mailng me a copy so I can put in on the fridge.
There is a good chance that the other night after a wedding reception i was at that i mailed you a drink coaster.
If you're wondering where your left shoe is you lost it in a bet with a homeless guy last night
I'm so hungover it hurts to blink.. oh sweet merciful Christ what have I done
And they have kittens that decided that boobs are apparently the best arena for king of the hill...
You just said the word 'slut' out loud in your sleep and then made a moaning noise
And all i could do was bury the part of me that felt guilty for cradle robbing and put on my dick swallowing bib.
Apparently someone was hiding in a storm drain dressed as Pennywise from it and offering passersby free penis enlargement pills.
He has me blocked on facebook.... so I stalked him using my cats fan page.
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