your head's too prwtty to be stuck in the books
I need to talk about my life with someone. Preferably with someone who hasn't tried to jizz on me
Our suitemates are shrooming again. I left a less colorful dress hanging on the door, change before you come in because purple is making Maeve cry.
Im sleeping in your bed. Sorry for the sand and the noise and the loud people. Im starving
Your blankets are not drunk friendly
That was the apt with beer in the juice and the floor caving in. Don't go.
I called him and he said hell call me back hes in the middle of his kareokee song he was out by himself and his dog
Based off of the soaking wet clothes/towels/rugs, Eiffel Tower statue and monkey in the bathtub, I'm going to assume drunk me took a bath.
Are you really alive right now?
The bet was for naked jumping jacks. And it back fired, she just laughed at all the slapping noise.
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
My wife climbed on top of me, fucked my brains out, and gave me money from the ATM. I'm living the dream.
I WANT PIZZA BUT I ALSO WANT SELF ESTEEM
BUT LIKE WHO AM I TO EVER CARE ABOUT SELF ESTEEM
I should not be allowed to reproduce. The world doesn't need my sarcastic asshole demon spawn in child form
You're the third Mark I've fucked in that bed.
Would you be so kind as to inform your husband that my truck is forever cursed by mashed potatoes and it's his fault.
So turns out my new assistant isn't really my assistant. The owner needed a title for his FWB so his wife wouldn't catch on. I got a three hundred a month credit limit boost on my corporate credit card instead.
Randomize
