Job is the problem. Drinking, the solution.
She wants her shit back. Clearly she missed the cheaters-get-their-shit-ritually-burned clause.
high people should be assigned attendants
Ryan Howard.... the only guy who struck out more than me this weekend
and honestly a story about how you met your future husband that DOESN'T include the words "creeped him on facebook" is really not a story worth sharing
Judging by her face, I'd say she's at least dabbled with meth...
I gave him head and we watched Fashion Police. somehow it wasn't awkard.
Somewhere between yelling how am I gonna make it to my flight and more titie shots I stopped caring
Dad got stoned the other day and bought us potty training seats for when we have children
All right, sex is off the menu for you. Now you just get friendship. So I can spend marginally less time being annoyed by you.
Also I feel like death. But like. In a good way
He was simultaneously rubbing my shoulders and fucking me. I'm keeping him.
You've reached your one pic per night limit. To increase your limit, start conversations before 9 and submit your request for an additional pic before 10.
I guess she found the pillow case full of vomit I hid last night: "Oh my God. Oh my God. In my fucking FRIDGE?! Really? Hope your dick falls off there's puke all over my food. Fucking die."
Now I am free. And I want to go meet men. My phone deleted all my contacts, and I consider this to be a new beginning. With a new man in my phone book.
Randomize
