He won't talk to me. He'll only communicate using scissors
one of the cashiers from Kroger is eating at my kitchen table and nobody knows why.
I think my uterus is still laying in your bed somewhere under the covers.
It's okay. My lingerie drawer is skanky enough for the two of us. Even across borders.
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It took me half an hour to realize I didnt know them
Was your wine and cheese snap taken from the toilet?
And then god smiled down upon me and he said let there be hangover food and let it be Wendy's
I've been back for one day and I've already given two bjs. Improvement from last year.
"Don't bang the neighbor, don't bang the neighbor, don't bang the neighbor..." he chanted helplessly
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Why is "Oprah of drinks" written on my arms?
You said to write it on you, after you kept saying, "You get a drink, you get a drink, everyone gets a drink."
I can't decide which is better: the sex, or remembering that I have ice cream in the freezer after he left
I can't believe I'm coordinating a threesome at work. My productivity is at an all time low.
The smoothie place is closed, but the liquor store is open and wine is kinda like a smoothie.
What's the plan?
Not sure. I think I'll take a dump on his windshield.
I guess it's too forward to greet him with a blow job?
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