That fat broad you banged out last night is still here and I can hear her snoring through the living room wall. I would leave, but I don't want to come home to an empty fridge.
even my farts smell like vagina
i wish that every time i slipped on a sheet of ice i had the ability to recover with a michael jackson move
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
i remember getting really pissed off when you wouldn't let me sleep in the garage with your cat.
Btw he dated my mom. You're Eskimo siblings with my mom. Good job.
I have come to the conclusion that my perfect boyfriend is a cardboard cutout of Link with a dildo attatched. Also, Merry Christmas.
No, this place just freaks me out. Like I feel like ill get pregnant just being here. And all those pregnant bellies. It's weird.
Ugh. The fucking vaginal recession is so real right now.
We smoked a huge blunt and then laid in bed naked eating strawberry shortcake good humor bars. We have the perfect relationship.
I wasn't going to just ask my parents for a damn vibrator for christmas
Last night he told me I was never sexier than when I was cutting pizza. Seriously. Like, he's perfect.
I no longer have the means to support both a women and an alcohol addiction
I'm at the drive thru window, five minutes out. If the bathtub is empty or you're dressed when I arrive I'm not sharing.
I'm still very high. To be blunt. No pun intended.
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