tonight, alcohol would be proud of us
I woke up at 4am on the couch with half my clothes on. And by half my clothes I mean my earrings.
the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
as he left, i held up my fist and said "pound it out" and he was like "are you serious, we just had sex..."
He looked down at his phone and screamed "I'M NOT A DAD!" and then bought the entire bar a round
Thank God I didn't lose my virginity to that asshole. That woulda been like winnin a raffle ticket for a free bag of dog shit. But with like a really pretty bag. A pretty bag full of dog shit.
High with mom again. She's giving me relationship advice.
I saw a picture of my dad holding my legs in a kegstand. Town festival=success.
I am gathering blankets and bags of horse grain to pad my truck bed so I have a comfy place to crash when I get home, without the inconvenience of stairs. Or doors. Or walking. But with the refreshing scent of molasses.
I'm just waiting for the avalanche of beef.
I'm ready to get married, then we can lie around watching anime and eating pizza while he rubs baby oil on me
Do I need to call and sing lullabies? Because that's creepy, but I'm a really good friend.
So it's official the pockets of my work apron exist solely for the purpose of secretly flipping off asshole customers and not losing my job.
You texted him 17 times. Asking for him back and sending random pictures of Jimmy Buffett. He didn't answer.
You didnt text me.. I'm on your street with golf clubs
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