I looked at my own cervix.
It was so romantic--he turned me around to face the sunset during doggy-style over the couch back.
you called me at 4 in the morning to tell me that your toaster burnt your english muffin, and that you "fuckin hated that thing."
While my grandpa showed the family a slide show he accidentally included a topless photo of his new gf.
Okay. Did anyone see me spend $1600 at the strip club last night? Or is this someone else's receipt in my pocket?
Oh we're fine. I made her a "sorry I peed on you" omelet.
My catholic guilt is strong, but the alcohol is stronger.
I just dried my bra with your hair straightener because the drier is broken again.
I don't know if I'm feeling really nervous right now or just extremely horny.
I don't know what happened. His phone, shirt, shoes, and the condom wrapper are here but he isn't. I don't even know how to get a hold of him right now
we all thought you were asleep. he found you an hour later sitting outside in the snow lighting a bowl, singing the CatDog theme song, and hugging a box a Franzia.
My lighter is stuck in my beard.
In your alcohol circus, can my act be juggling men? Let's be real, I can juggle multiple dick buddies better than a professional
FUCK YOU VODKA I'M TRYING TO ADULT RIGHT NOW
I mean, I'm not upset that HE's getting married, I'm upset his penis has to go through with it by default
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