Those former-lesbian gone white-trash bars always seem to be your favorite.
You came into my room at 3am.. drunk.. and asked to do spanish homework together. Props for being a good student.
It's like the Sean Connery of vaginas. You don't mess with it.
She gave me a foot massage with her tongue. I think we're both scarred for life.
Just found a 7-11 receipt for new years eve at 1:30 am apparently we felt the need to buy three jars of pickles and a gallon of milk does this ring any bells?
I need the number of a restaurant that delivers, has lock-picking abilities, and is okay with full frontal male nudity. Entirely too hungover to get out of bed.
Not even joking, someone broke into the house to watch porn. The cops are on the way.
When did angry sex become our thing?
Did I run into a tree or get punched in the face?
Both.
I am the girl who goes to bed with her make-up on so that she doesn't have to fully redo it in the morning. I am obviously not ready to be a mother.
How does that even work?
How does a face ride mean we're back together?
The only time we had a decent conversation was when he was on acid, and, like, that's not a great start to a relationship.
I think I came out of my blackout as I was ordering wine from the private wedding reception.
The logic in me says "don't text him" .But the vagina in me says "text him".
Soon to be ex is nowhere to be found. Her attorney/new BF just showed up. 30 minutes late looking hungover. Pretty sure I'm getting the kids AND the house!
Randomize
