Our house smells like week old pizza, beer cans, cigarettes, and depressing career tracks....get lysol.
i wonder if i could find a boyfriend who would call me big papa
sure if you go to prison
Rubbed one out while on hold to buy tickets to Disneyland. Feel simultaneously like a freak and strangely productive.
Almost made out with Amanda but I told her "I'm in a committed fake lesbian relationship with Laura. I can't."
Ugh why does it have to be margarita Monday. Why can't it be pants off dance off beer pong but with jager Monday.
I still regret not being there for your blackout into the dumpster last year
I would eat the Denny's grand slam special out of my new probation officers b hole
I'm counting my small victories this morning. For instance, I haven't puked at work yet.
You're the second person to offer to fuck me in the bathroom at work. Idk whether I should feel honored, or if cvs is just a turn on.
You ran into the tattoo shop screaming PIERCE MY TITIES
Blizzard, Hour 9: I'm 7 beers deep and have finished Ninja Turtles. I am listening to the NYPD and Nassau Fire Dept pipes and drums and writing new drum scores in my head, which I may or may not remember tomorrow
I signed the divorce papers. Can I get a blowjob now?
My crotch smells like fire and I can't find my pants
Well shit I mean if you get a bunch of cashed up drunk lesbians together in a casino, it's bound to go south at some point
Just find a separated / divorcing man. They’re too upset to fall in love, too helpless to be alone and too horny to think straight. Smile at him the right way and he’ll be thrilled to be with a sexy younger woman!
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