i just passed a truck with a bumper sticker saying "i'd rather be cummin than strokin." god bless the midwest.
she pooed on me. she actually pooed on me.
we were pretty classy up until the second keg
mom and dad googled us on the weekend. i love the internet less than i did on friday.
Right before he passed out, he said "Stuporman, coming in for a landing"
you don't seem to understand just how much pasta i spilled on my bed last night.
He's like the houdini of condoms. I never even realized he put one on before we fucked. he's magical.
He's drinking red wine in a margarita glass. He couldn't be more perfect for me.
Walking down the street trying to find the pants I had on last night
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
Apparently after awhile self preservation trumps libido. This is new news to me.
I do believe that seeing camel toe in leopard print pants at Walmart is the closest I will ever come to going on a safari
Our group of friends now have more broken bones than reasonable excuses for why they're broken.
They just made me take another shot and I found out the liquor store next to my brothers house has a petting zoo
Mind. Blown.
All my friends are going on vacations with their boyfriends while I’m over here in court trying to get a restraining order against my ex....
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