I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
you were sitting on the floor eating oats. how should i react?
As per my father's affair, married men are no longer off limits.
Hey man, sorry I chased you around the house with a small table.
He looked at my vag and said "you have a nice situation down there. Good work"
First of all, I don't like eggnog. Second of all too much rum is all bad. And thirdly I'm not there to sit in your lap and pretend you are Santa and I've been a bad girl.
My new hangover cure is going for a haircut, just so the stylists give me a scalp massage during the shampoo.
That certainly explains the nine times your hair has looked different just this last month alone.
Nothing like a false "my-dad-found-my-weed" alarm on Christmas day.
I'm sorry but the visual image of you suffocating on vagina is basically hysterical
I'm sorry I didn't get you anything for your birthday
It's just you didn't get me the fucking bear suit last year
Don't judge me. It's a Monday night and I can eat burritos in while bathing in the kitchen sink if I want to.
Man I gotta stop stashing shit when I'm high. I just spent 2 hours searching for my bag of pot and eventually found it in fucking a bandaid box.
I ordered from the drive thru as i was peeing on the menu
He adjusted my bra straps while I blew him.
Just got an exam care package consisting of only adderall wrapped in money. Score one for mom.
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