that sweater is a total boner killer. you might as well be wearing a wedding dress.
Before I left in the morning I deleted her purity ring app off her iPod, I figured it would save her the shame
she "accidentally" hit me with her car, its almost as if she know im fucking her boyfriend.
Todays life lesson brought to you by last nights half pitchers of cheap sangria: you'll never get the stain or the SMELL of sangria vomit out of your bedroom carpet.
you tried turning the bar into a spelling b competition last night and every time someone couldn't spell something you would make them chug.
I gasped. Both pairs of lips did.
As you passed out you started to cry and say "Mufasa" over and over again making everyone else cry.
Jessica just ate her lipstick. That's how the night is going
I need to pull it together. I just cried my eyes out to Master Chef Junior.
Dude. I don't even want cuddles. I just want an acknowledgement that I just had balls in my mouth.
I just want to go home and eat bagel bites in my underwear
the gnome is staring at me and the pineapple is wearing shorts. I don't want to do this anymore.
Neighbor just came over and asked if I had anything to clean blood out of carpet... it's definitely time to move.
I kept yelling "BY ORDER OF THE PEAKY FUCKING BLINDERS" in a terrible brummie accent at everyone I saw wearing a flatcap.
This past week everybody of fb either got rings or semen. All I got was Covid.
Randomize
