can we please move this conversation out of my vagina?
He better hope I dont die soon. Because I would haunt his bitch ass and cock block 24/7
i DID NOT walk around with my knees bent and my hands behind my back with long spandex and underarmour pretending to be Apollo Ono
Don't freak out about the couches in the driveway. We tried to unpack the uhaul drunk.
I want the one making out with the dumpster. Is that bad?
we are out of drugs. and patience. please bring former.
Was it high me or sober me who put those Jolly Rancher sticks in the freezer? I'd be soooo impressed if it was high me.
You have dresses for different occasions. I need different men's dicks too. It's logic.
As part of the off-hours team building exercises, I had my new coworkers figure out to push me back to the hotel from the nearby bars in a shopping cart every night for a week.
Oh boy. Send him a care package with laxative cookies and alcohol. So he can shit himself while he's passed out drunk.
He texted me at 3am that you cut your hand at the bar and were bleeding all over.
I woke up to a text thinking you bled out at a bar, turns out you got your butthole licked.
You know that feeling when you wake up and your whole body just smells like a penis?
In the middle of pounding my asshole he stopped and said, "do you want to get breakfast after this?"
he passed out in the backyard and we used christmas lights as extension cords for the clippers to shave his head.
Throwing up in a storm drain... Not my finest moment.
But my shoes looked boss
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