Um, that's called prostitution
Not if I leave it on the nightstand, then it's called cab money
my vagina has a 5:00 shadow
i don't remember her name, but i don't need it unless we decide to hook up again. but even then, i can get away with not knowing it for a while. it's not like we have actual conversations.
the "happy anniversary" cake for my mom and dad is about to turn into the "yeah, that's a hickey, welcome back from italy" cake.
why didn't we just drop out of school years ago and become dominatrix bitches who beat men?
I don't know but we should still do that
There's so much relief when you realize you wake up in your own bed
composition of my stomach right now: 60% C8H10N4O2 * H2O (coffee), 20% CaCO3 (pepto bismol/tums), 10% HCl (stomach acid), 5% fried rice, 5% residual adderall. i can do that by percent mass too. fuck you finals.
so, give him that "thank you for fighting for my freedom bj" & he wont even remember what you said in that six min voice mail.
Except if I'm having sex. In which case you're in the bed with us or out of the room. No halfsie participation.
PS: when I ask you if I look fat in a a dress DO NOT TAKE YOUR SWEET ASS GAY TIME to formulate an answer only to tell me in front of our family that perhaps I should buy Spanx. Do you WANT me to tell mom and dad you suck cock? Then be a good brother and have the common decency to LIEEEEEE!!!!
Oh my fucking god how fucking embarrassing never again will I mix drugs at a family barbecue
I got a text saying, "It's so great to throw tomatoes at seagulls."
There is a video recording of my birth. I have seen it. It is terrifying.
We went camping and met these lesbians and now I have S'mores where there shouldn't be S'mores.
I feel like my foot is being amputated. Or maybe it's the vodka. I couldn't tell you.
Randomize
