The guy drove to our house at 6am to sell us weed. Now that's customer service.
Woke up on the floor with my glow stick in one hand & dollar bills in the other. Good. Morning.
It's official, I need to start putting my vagina's needs before my own.
You told me to remind you that the bruise on your ass is from when you danced on the table at Ziggy's, saw a cop and tried to 'fly away'.
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Ice that vagina down, get some coffee, and try not to walk with a limp. It's time to dominate, pull it together
What did he say?
NOTHING. GODDAMN HIM AND HIS MAGICAL PENIS!
Two days later and my throat is still sore. That bong is a double edged sword.
He got in a fight. Then called me drunk to see if he should bail his friends out, or walk through a Taco Bell drive-thru. True love.
Hey you're my best friend, I'm sorry I picked my vagina over my heart last night.
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i just had diarrhea that people from the 1930's would have died from
I thought you were dead but then you asked me if your tits looked good. They did.
My mom found my empty case that I hid in my room and just said "now why don't you be a responsible underaged drinker and throw it in the recycling" and walked away. I'm in shock.
She squirted. We were both surprised. I'm that good.
The last time I was on vacation the pandemic blew up. Can't wait to see how my vacation fucks up the world this time.
Santi's no longer allowed to buy booze in my lane. Last thing I need is a midlife crisis looking at his Id again.
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