In similar news, my cock is bigger than the plane that landed in the hudson.
I can no longer count the number of girls I've banged on my fingers and toes. It's like being born again.
So I've been thinking a lot since she told me she's prego. But what I want to know is why my voice of reason sounds like Thomas fucking Jane!?
I decided that not getting a job after college is gods way of telling me I will make a great housewife
I just used my 7th grade year book to figure out who I hooked up with last night. Being home is magical.
His bookmark is a piece of toilet paper. No shame there.
Any night you end up on the couch next to the trash can with a bag of white wine on your head is a rough night.
I don't know if it has occurred to you yet, but you are dating a nymphomaniac, and your work schedule is an interference of my needs being fulfilled. Get home now.
You fed me pizza off a sword last night.
I'm already too high to be publicly presentable. I just looked at myself in the mirror without my sunglasses. Debated contacts. Said aloud "But I'm nothing without my sunglasses."
I'm going to give blood tomorrow. Prepare yourself for pictures and a cynical poem about the heart and its level of tangibility.
Sometimes I wish I lived alone because there would be no one to judge me if I wanted to have whiskey and popcorn for breakfast.
Do you think showing up at his door with bourbon and chicken is too forward?
You chose shitty college football over this pussy and my cute little mouth. That's your fault.
I puked on someone's floor last night and then they proceeded to ask me on a date.
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