Tonight, I'm planning on being a bigger trainwreck than Britney Spears circa 2007.
our cab driver is having phone sex.
I'm drunk at the doctor. It's not that fun. Overrated in fact.
turkey basters and jungle juice, is that really the whole shopping list for new year's?
A stranger just came up to me and asked why I hadn't texted him, and if he was just a one night stand. I live for these moments.
my night ended with a pity blow in a racecar bed
ripping the fire alarm off the wall probably seemed like a better idea last night than it really was.
I need to find out this kids work schedule. I need mustache rides on my lunchbreaks.
She's calming us down by shoving oreos in our mouths
It's gotten so bad I typed my will out on my phone in case it's over.
Just letting everyone know that I am still alive after last night. On a related note, this is the 15th "I'm not dead!" mass text I've sent. You've got to celebrate the little things.
We may not see eye-to-eye on much, but I'm definitely willing to let you see eye-to-vagina again.
she paid $15 and a box of cheerios for their acid
Me sprinting out of your house without my bra or shoes is our entire relationship defined in a single moment.
I just want an early 40-something dude who is vaguely unencumbered, professionally driven and wants to put me in a ball gag.
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