Like all of my pajamas are shirts of guys I shacked with in college
i wish they had a 'baby daddy' section in halmark, like, "hey, i know you didn't want this child and you're doing a horrible job, but here's to making you cry on fathers day"
The make-up sex just reminded me why we broke up in the first place.
i feel like an archaelogyst. im pulling apart last weeks brownies to find the weed in them
From the trajectory of the puke, I must have fallen off the top bunk while trying to vomit, due to the dented bucket, ruined carpet, and bruised dignity I now own.
My leg won't stop wagging. It's like it's congratulating my vagina.
I found my underwear on the sidewalk 8 blocks from her house while on my walk of shame. I also found our beer bag and a full beer in the bush.
You sprayed lysol all over me. You said that my soberness was infecting your night.
I made him leave at 3am, he texted me a couple minutes later and said the elevator was broken and he was sleeping in there, but he said I was worth it so I don't feel guilty
I want to miss work tomorrow on account of violent projective vomit... Make it happen
I think I'm still a little drunk from Sunday Funday and I just changed for a date in my car. wish me luck.
But I aced my quizzes. Apparently flash card beer pong is an acceptable form of studying.
I will now send you explicit pics of mine and her genetalia bound together forever in the devils dance that is sexting.
I still can't get the taste of her nipples and the udon noodles out of my mouth
I spent last night dying strippers pubes green and landscaping shamrocks. That is why hands look like I squashed a leprechaun.
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