i'm only drinking out of pineapples from now on.
My text messages all automatically add Zs on them cause of your skank ass messages you send me
At some point I made a semi-conscious decision that i was okay with sleeping in my own vomit.
Couldn't get it up. She asked me what she was doing wrong. Didn't have the heart to tell her. I appreciated her willingness to adapt, but she's pretty much gonna look that bad her whole life.
I have reached the state of intoxication where it is now a requirement to sit while peeing.
I don't care. I'll text you about my butthole whenever I please. That's what you signed up for in this relationship.
I think they took out their livers years ago and replaced them with like cheese graters or something. Only explanation.
Just got a nosebleed, my period and the runs all at the same time. I'm either dying, or this is the first sign of the apocalypse. You warning you in case it's the latter.
So we reenacted men's olympic skeet shooting using roman candles and flattened beer cans. That's all
It's not so much that I'm giving her money because I threw up on her floor. It's more like I'm paying her to never ever mention it again.
I told him I was on the pill and it was OK to fire away. I want to never have to wear panty house or ever go to an office again. This is my early retirement plan. I want half of his NBA money.
This is my college life. Rolling at 4PM on a Wednesday to skrillex in the parking lot of a mexican restaurant.
My cardio is walking around the office looking for free food.
I don't think tits should taste like fish.
You were throwing up into a trash can full of used condoms. I had to intervine.
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