I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
we sang an acapella version of barbara ann to his voicemail...i'm not drinking again until tuesday.
She kept screaming "yeah! You pick up my books!" the whole time. . .
i wish i could "like" people's thoughts in real life like i can on facebook
you can....by speaking....
it feels like my vag is blowing bubbles
Dude, she uses Old Spice. It smelled like I was eating out my grandfather.
i feel sorry for the hotel staff that makes the bed after we have sex
I'm so covered in bruises. God dammit drunk me. We are a lady.
You need an intervention. You fell into traffic walking home.
Not really. Birthday weekend. Totally jusifiable. Besides I didn't get hit. No harm no foul.
Babe. You eat pussy like a god warrior sent from a galaxy far far away to destroy female genitalia with new realms of pleasure. That's how I know your not gay.
I'm gonna lurk in the mother fucking bushes and watch karma take him down like a gimpy gazelle.
I wouldn't blow him for all the queso in the world.
I'd rather blow that homeless guy who asked me to breast feed him.
His daughter is our waitress. I left her a ten dollar 'I'm sorry I'm a whore and fucked your dad' tip...
I'm almost positive that you shat in a birdhouse
I've realized that my life is a cycle of high that is only broken by sobering up at work, which only happens because I can't smoke more
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