i broke up with my boyfriend last night because i had to eat a freezy pop in every color and he ate the last blue one. i sat on the floor and cried for an hour at least. everyone left. so i decided that this whole weed thing isnt really healthy for my relationships.
I'm going to have to call in sick tomorrow. After this weekend, there's no way I can handle hearing the accountants talk about double entry without puking.
I was talking to some girls while you were falling off your bar stool into the person next to you.
I was handcuffed to a girl for half-an-hour. And I'm still the only one in the house who didn't get laid.
Won't anyone wonder why I'm mute, bald, and wearing an eye patch?
I don't want to die alone with cake watching shows about cake
"Douchebag of the Year" award goes to the guy who didn't reply to the picture of my tits.
I should probably drink beer instead of rum today so I don't end up naked in my living room while I still have guest.
he taught all the little kids to ski. it was stupid hot. i'm pretty sure my ovaries exploded.
Oh I see how it is...you can snap chat the world your balls but I wear dinosaur feetie pajamas and I'm the "weird one"
After a while I was so wet that I started crying. HE MADE ME SO HORNY I WEPT.
You was so high that you insisted that you heard someone whistle, then you insisted they was trapped in the wall!
I only get hit on by people going through their midlife crisis. Yes, I did purposely write that gender neutral.
I'm like 'WOMAN, YOU'RE 62, RESHEATH THOSE COUGAR CLAWS.'
These last few days with George, grandma, and now Carrie all dying have been pushing me further and further into rum's sweet embrace.
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