In my junk email folder, there are literally 67 messages from Alcoholics Anonymous. What..the fuck.
You don't understand how difficult it is to give head with cotton mouth
Its as if he has to do the exact opposite of what I tell him. Don't come in my eye, pfshh it's in my eye. Don't come on the cat, pfshh it's on the cat.
I wanna die of smoke inhalation. In a huge teepee. Or one of those big things kids in kindergarten have that you throw up in the air then sit inside of.
when i saw his roomate the next night he kept openly referring to me as "the girl who orgasms loud" when he would try to get my attention
I am the slutty bisexual glue that holds this friendship group together.
Well, after emptying the contents of my stomach into a fucking rose bush, the only things moving through my digestive system are pills, coffee, and my own lip gloss. If that gives you any idea what kind of a day I'm having.
Look at the picture I MADE him take with me...like why??? He's holding my foot?
Hit on in the middle of a Wal-Mart McDonald's by a really awkward nerd. There is not enough nope in the world.
It was all fun and games until he noticed the hickey that he hadn't given me...
I've discovered my ability to crush a man's ego is greater than my hate for beer.
The whole time you were apparently enduring your pukescapades, I was singing very loudly in the car to Beyonce on my way to get a post-coitus Diet Coke.
I felt like I needed to shower with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.
I'm gonna be late for work because i decided to masturbate and forgot to put my clothes in the dryer
I feel like a dancer trapped in the body of a math instructor. Love, Mom
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