I woke up this morning with my shirt on upside down.
You mean inside out.
No, upside down. I ripped the neck hole in the process of getting it around my waist.
I'm cleaning the house. And I can't stop listening to Enrique Iglesias. Am I gay?
I even have the new album if that helps you make a decision.
You called me twice to tell me that you spit in your own eye, when I was right next to you.
You told me when we were leaving the club if I could pin point your nipple through your padded bra you would show me if I was right.
She's the only person who can pull off turning an outdoor patio heater tower into a stripper pole.
She sat on the stairs and yelled sex positions at us. I don't remember if we went along with it but judging by the beer and condoms I'm thinking yes.
I had a dream about that dude. It was the first time I had a dream about him since the tryst.
The tryst?
The hookup. I like using sophisticated words for my foolish decisions. Makes me retain some dignity.
So he noticed that I cut a half inch off of my hair. Guess who just earned himself some road head on the way to the twin cities?
He called my boobs fluffy. Part sexy part pilsbury dough boy. Part sexy pilsbury dough boy. I'm so confused. And flattered?
I just heard your voicemail. Glad you like my dick and think I'm cool
I woke up and sent him a text that said 'I'm sorry forever'
This is it. This is the birthday cake that gets me laid.
His fucking flight got canceled because the president stopped at the airport he was flying out of... Fuckin Obama literally just cock blocked me
Finding out you're not a mother on Mother's Day >>>
I don't need this shit right now. I just woke up covered in pistachios
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