Turned out the thing on the lampshade was a bloodstain, not a bedbug. We feel much safer now.
It's 6 am and I've spent the last few hours searching for a cork screw or suitable substitute. You had none. Incidentally, I finally opened this bottle of wine, but owe you a new meat sticky thing with those two prongs. Sobriety is not good for me. Or your utensils.
Status Uddate: I lost half a tooth and Alison is taking Amy Grant requests via bullhorn
well shes beginning to earn a reputation as "the girl who tries to bone her hook ups in the ass with a pickle"
She literally just cut half her hair off because she's tired of asking someone to hold it back when shes drunk and puking.
If life deals in absolutes, the in betweens are the most hairy.... Fortune cookie wisdom from a stoned Megan.
I'm imaging you naked, covered in butter. And I gotta say, I'm not impressed.
Well that's the second time I've broken a lamp during sex this month. Starting to worry I'm some kind of X-man. (this one was a wall sconce and I fully smashed it with my head and it crumbled like it was made of sugar)
You stole my crutches last night at the bar, the DJ had to ask for them to be returned
I just had a fifteen minute conversation with a Raccoon by the garbage bin. I was feeding it chex mix.
The security deposit's gone, let's trash this motherfucker
Everything was cool till you started pissing while standing at the bar
he had shaved armpits. I repeat: HE SHAVED. HIS. ARMPITS! First hookup of 2014 and it's with a weirdo. Alcohol:1 Me:0
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
Jarrod's passed out on the chair with a cup of milk and I've been staring him down in an attempt to use telepathy to make him spill it. Attempts unsuccessful.
Randomize
