I just talked to a CEO of a fortune 500 company while pooping. I LOVE being self employed.
Fuck morning classes. Fuck early work. Fuck anything in the morning that doesn't involve sleeping, sex or bacon.
Judging by the fact that my hair was glued to my head with vomit, yeah I think I couldve used a friend last night
I think i can make this amish girl legitimately hot.
but you don't have to sleep on top of four different cum stains because you'd rather buy a case of Franzia than spend $3.50 in the student laundry room
whoever set the energy saving light timer in the lobby bathroom cleraly has no concept how long a work dump takes
Tell him next time im gonna be "disgrace to the family" drunk
I haven't seen him since I gave him a hand job in the hospital. I like to think I contributed to his speedy recovery.
Like, what's the customary waiting period to hookup with your newly single ex that you never stopped hooking up with?
Ideas I've had tonight: An entire movie based off the Pixar lamp jumping on stuff.
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
He just made my one night stand pancakes for breakfast. And I thought living with my ex was going to be weird.
Something tells me your "Titties for Tracy Morgan" fundraiser won't pan out.
There's no sexy way to moan the name Ernest. Or Ernie. This relationship is fucked
I woke up in his closet, with my shirt inside out and backwards, Rolos in my hand, a tortilla with a face carved into it stuck to the fridge with a magnet, a homemade bong next to the bed, and the door off the hinges... I need a chaperone.
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