I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
meow
WTF. STOP SENDING ME ANIMAL NOISES. ITS FUCKING WEIRD.
She was raised with a wonderful home life. I can't do anything with that.
Note to self: never do anything I don't want to explain to a paramedic
What can I say, he stumbled upon the key to my heart: orgasms and mac 'n cheese.
then he asked me if i wanted to "handle his wingman"
there's chocolate cake in my bathtub.. I don't even want to know how the hell chocolate cake wound up in my tub..
How am I supposed to stop smoking pot when girl scout cookies are being sold.
the breathalyzer kept saying danger. we made our new slogan danger we need more shots
We dug deep emotionally while eating cereal
No more weed for you
I just want to lay in a bed of egg mcmuffins and cry
You've got to be fucking kidding me. Do you think "Husband drunkenly pees all over floors" is reasonable grounds for divorce? So pissed off right now.
Dude get here. I just re-invented nachos. For real though. They werent real before right now
I accused him of not drinking enough alcohol and eating tacos after midnight. I was sober and he's not a gremlin. I would say bad.
Simultaneously sexting while making brunch plans. Multitasking at its gayest.
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