I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
I'm drunk at The Bachelor casting call in Cleveland
I cherish every text you send me
lets have sex before this no shave november shit gets outta hand.
he just spelled fiance, "pheancie". I dont think he's ready to get married.
Who just wakes up in their own bed and assumes "I probably blew some guy last night"
If there's so much of a hint of a whisper from somebody I didn't tell personally, I will cut off your balls with a chainsaw, cauterize the wound with a flaming rusty spoon, feed your balls to your dog, and feed them to you when he shits them out, capiche?
Whoever labeled dysfunctional a bad thing obviously never saw this frinedship coming.
I am a murderer. I ran over so many baby frogs. I wanted to stop and pick some up to take home, but all I have is a wine bottle. I'd hate to explain that to a cop.
Piñatas plus fireworks don't mix well
you were bawling because you felt bad for being so drunk and then you asked for a beer
Okay. So I've done lines off a bible. But that's just for the sake of being cliché.
Stop confusing me with every girl you know that doesn't like sex.
You are a super loving wife. But did you, at any point since Thanksgiving, slip me half your bottle of stool softeners?
How many more times can I say I need to get laid before you kill me?
He gave us beer and shots and made us pizza in his brick oven before firing a handgun into the air to signal it was time to give us a ride in his inflatable raft to the bars.
He's like a mythological figure
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