Any day that starts with a call from my ex-bf... crying... is a good day.
You might not want to sit on your couch. Actually you may want to throw it away. My bad.
he refused to get me toilet paper before we started drinking so I keep wiping with his towel.
I figured it out. hungover me hates drunk me, drunk me hates sober me, and sober me hates being sober. so yes, were blacking out tonight.
While in Europe, he bought me a pouring tap to put on my liquor so I don't spill. This means 2 things.1) He really loves me. 2) I'm a noticeable alcoholic.
She just kept tellin me God was coming back and he was leavin her with a bag of stale doritoes and shitty friends.
so do you, all the weight can't fall on me. I'll befriend a ball pit owner if you will befriend a drug dealer. teamwork.
Fire alarms went off at reception of gay wedding im at. We all had to evacuate until FD got here. Then...ill just text the photos.
With a few pieces of metal and duct tape and a bong was created
I woke up on his couch and my bra was flung across the floor and filled with animal crackers
So changing channels while she's on top is frowned upon. It's back to thinking about baseball again.
I'm committing myself to dance. Also, I'm unsure if you said space party sounded lame because dude was old, but I hope you're over it because I love space, and I love David Bowie and I love to dance, and you need to embrace this with me.
I made a booty call at 3:30 am on a Monday... I think I just became the ultimate female fuckboy. I don't know whether to be ashamed or get myself a trophy.
I love FaceTime, every time you ring me the morning after its like I went home with your one night stand too.
So some guy thought I took second place in a male stripper competition
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