I'm done. I'm tired and there's a topless pic of me floating around the nation's largest 3G network.
There are not one, but two women wearing my boxers on the couch right now. You need to wake the fuck up.
My mom said "I don't want to fund your drug problem" so she gave me a gift card to the book store. I now have a 420 page book on growing weed.
Also I feel like 60% of our relationship is based on sausage mcmuffins.
You missed a lot. I drank contact solution thinking it was water, vodka thinking it was water and some unidentified substance that reminded me of pine sol thinking it was water..
That dick who always called me a slut in high school showed up at the clinic with boner problems. Then I was assigned as his nurse. Who's laughing now. I AM.
I had this image of some guy in a taco truck down by the IMA accosting you for a peep show.
He's living a porn movie. He's slept with a waitress at her work for lunch, a bar tender at the bar that night, and the cleaning lady the next morning.
Went to night shots with Kayla... she punched this guy and I got his friends number. Not sure if she's the best or worst wingman ever.
Was your wine and cheese snap taken from the toilet?
My snow day: told Cam, "we're not dating today, we're just roommates." No bra, boxers, drinking whiskey by myself for the past 2 hours, yelling at The Ultimate Fighter reruns from 3 years ago.
So, I without a doubt haven't used the bag I'm now carrying since we were dating. Just had to discreetly throw out an unopened magnum in a bus station.
My phone autocorrected "shhhhh" to "AHHHHHHHHH" and I feel like that says a lot about my life
It was fine. Until I accidentally shit on his floor.
Let the clothes fall where they may.
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