My body has become completely dependent on Text Twist. I can't poop without it.
I'm trapped in whichever ring of hell is populated by inbred yokels and type 2 diabetes.
we had a 10 minute conversation with his family about how I don't let him eat me out. I want to go home
they told me they were banning four lokos so yeah i did have to buy 42 of them
My mom is purposely blasting Shania Twain downstairs so I can't jack off.
We lost track of him for only 10 min and he gets kicked out for sneaking into the kitchen and trying to operate the deep fryer.
I'm covered in egg mcmuffin wrappers and my room smells like dead hooker.
Oh my God, that is a gorgeous man. And I wasn't even gay until five minutes ago.
Hold on I'm doing something revolutionary that blossomed from a high idea
I just got carded by a ten year old.
apparently, dueling with garden tools in Home Depot is strictly frowned upon
I was sat at the table waiting with a glass of wine reading my book and the hotel staff gave me a goldfish in a bowl and said 'heres your date for the night' !
Is there evidence of another human being getting away with this/ not dying?
Not only do I have a well-defined bite mark on my arm, but I also have a perfectly clear bruise of a handprint wrapped around my arm like a tribal tattoo. Thoughts on how that happened?
Now that I'm sober I feel the need to tell you that I'm not really a fish whisperer....
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