Are you going to tell your therapist we boned?
So Ive decided I have serious issues. Im walking around the school with a bag labeled booze money collecting from people while slightly hungover at 8:20 in the morning, and nobody is questioning me.
I was giving him a blow job in the kitchen, but it was uncomfortable. so i took the oven mitts and used them as knee pads.
Don't tell me i'm not fucking resourceful.
Downstairs neighbor just asked me to tell people when they jump off the balcony next time not to land on her flowers
also. he gave me a foot massage during 69ing when i got a cramp. he's a winner.
Did you write your name in the dust on our toilet tank?
We're sitting in his room writing songs about America. There's a verse about a dead dog. There's tequila everywhere.
Well call me tomorrow, it's a great story that may lead to me being fired and/or possibly being buried in a shallow grave somewhere out in wine country.
I know. he thinks we're 'meant to be'. No we're fucking not. God wouldn't give my soulmate a pencil dick.
Want a slice of this weekend's hottest piece of ass?
but there's so much I wanna do before I have kids. like die
Homophobes nationwide are huddled in their bunkers tonight and I can't stop giggling. Could be the wine.
I'm trying to blow this guy down here can you please get my husband out of the house.
He left cushions on my floor, chocolate on my bra and unexplained scratches on my thighs. I think this one might get a second date.
I don't know what the hell I'm going to do with myself when this is all over. I'll probably just go back to smoking pot and trying to learn italian.
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