I've come to accept that no matter where I step in our apartment, your underwear will be there.
I had a dream that our used condom started talking to me. I told me that I did an amazing job, and told me that it saved me. From aids.
He kept pouting and saying i cockblocked him and I kept yelling "I'm sorry...but the cock was never out to be blocked"
It is way too early in the summer for me to be coming into work still drunk.
The topic of sex in the jamba banana suit has come up on multiple occasions. We're just waiting for a moment to try it out.
We need to make boob twerking a thing. I feel like that's why vine was invented
FOUND: my underwear in the cabinet above the toilet. What the actual fuck.
I dont' remember leaving St. Cloud, getting home, or apparently directing traffic in the middle of the fucking street while black out drunk.
I just had a spiritual connection with my sweater and did ballet in the hallway. Alone. I'd say we're gonna chalk that up as a win for marijuana and call it a night
The date went significantly better after the fifth shot of fireball.
I am the murdurer of this scooby doo episode
I'm in the smoking section between a transvestite molly dealer and a group of juggalos. I shouldn't be that hard to find.
Ha! Just garden hosed my vag and thought of you.
im pretty sure i tried to use axe body spray to cover up the strong urine smell coming from my jeans. im also pretty sure that it didnt work.
If he moved really quickly from "hi I've had a crush on you for years" to "send nudes" you probably were used.
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