They have to be talking about me. I never heard that statement until I was born.
The class that normally occupies the room we use for my Monday class had to do posters as if for a Hamlet movie and they pick actors for each character and this person wrote "Robert D. Niro"
Dude... You bled on his hand... At this point it doesn't matter that you called him your exes name, seriously.
I'm in the bar bathroom about to pass out. But it's ok cause I set my alarm to go off for last call.
I feel like as your wife, as cool with your decision-making skills as I usually am, there should be a bigger explanation to you adopting a child while I'm in Houston.
I have to finish a biography for history and write a review on it so naturally I was like "getting high will make this more bearable" and now I'm basically inside the book at the revolutionary war with this guy.
Trying to put a fitted sheet on drunk is one of the boss levels of slutty adulthood.
If I'm going to risk life and limb to wear a Wings jersey to the Garden next week, the least they can do is win.
And the most would be ending up in bed with one of them.
I need to mount that unicorn and turn him into a full blown steed.
We peed on campus in the middle of the tailgate and then hit on a married cop that asked you to stop touching him
I don't want my liquor store dad to judge me...
Ugh... The hoe gods giveth and the hoe gods taketh away.
Random question, what's John-that-we-had-a-threesome-with's phone number? Don't necessarily need the full number, maybe just area code? Think I drunkenly ran into him last night and now I have texts from a John.
I told him I was going outside to throw up and I ended up passing out in the front yard in my underwear for 45 minutes. When I walked back inside he said "where have u been?". My husband ladies and gentlemen
I like to make sure they know it's casual by giving then a high five after sex
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