I swear, if I find out you're lying, I'm going to put your name on one of those herpes watch websites and put the link up on every social networking site in existence.
i DID NOT walk around with my knees bent and my hands behind my back with long spandex and underarmour pretending to be Apollo Ono
i was told that i was found face down in a plate of ketchup at the dinner table
I bet. I bought a surfboard and a kite and filled my camelback with vodka-tonics. Let's do this
He appeared on my 7th floor fire escape and sang to me and jimmy through the window when we fucked. He's like a drunken mix of Sinatra and Spiderman.
Random memory from the wedding, the bartender showed us how to open the windows and piss out of them.
The picture that pops up when I call her phone is a picture of my nipple. Just so you're forewarned.
Figured out how I got so much alcohol in my hair: tried to drink my drink using my cleavage as a cup holder. Missed my drink hole and got it all in my hair
The only reason I know his name is because we wrote marriage vows in orange crayon on the back of a Walmart receipt.
While we were having sex he asked me if I wanted to get wingstop after. I think I found my future husband.
These beer shits have taken over my entire life.
My heart wants him and my vagina wants him...to have a bigger dick.
Nothing says depression like laying in your bed stoned, naked, and eating a cupcake
There's a dryer on fire at the laundromat, and everyone's just standing around taking pictures. Except me. I'm texting.
he's such a nice guy...he deserves a bigger dick.
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