Do you ever look at a vegetable and think "that would be awesome to shove up my vagina"?
I checked for jungle juice on Weight Watchers. they didn't have it.
America approved of our night. A bald eagle flew over us at 7am
He waited exactly 18 minutes to booty call me after his break up.
Security said no more parties of this kind. To me that translates to Theme party this weekend.
It's like you are the superhero of getting jizzed on
Nothing sez sunday morning like waking up in a phonebooth with a leg cramp.
No clues in my phone. Only dialed call: my own social security number. And that was before 10:00pm.
And then we made hashbrowns with vodka and queso.
Within 24 hours, I went to a feminist documentary screening with two state reps and you hate fucked a rent-a-cop on the helipad of your hospital. Somewhere our lives went in different directions.
I still make more money.
Nothing quite like pre-gaming the Kentucky Derby with adderall and adderall. I'm fairly confident I could outrun all of these fucking horses in a foot race right now.
I got kicked out of the bar for suggesting that the bartender drop her tits into my Redbull instead of the usual liquor
Damn why is there no horse blowjob emoji?
So, my ex just showed me the drunk voicemail we left him last night. Started out with me saying "I think it's Shane." Then you took my phone and started singing a song about peanut butter, train tracks, and tequila. I joined in. On the upside, he said he's totally fine with being on the drunk dial list from now on. Soooo, another tequila night??
Can I bother you for a second.
You always bother me but go on.
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