Where is the hickey?
Don't worry about it. I've taken so much Plan B, my uterus is purely for show now.
We were squawking at each other for over an hour like chickens. Literally. Never touching the stuff again and never again showing my face at that Denny's.
Whiskey shot with bacon bits, our version of Goldschlager WE ARE TRYIN IT.
I left boob prints on the hood of his car. Something to remember me by.
No im the worst roommate ever. Just dump a bucket of water on my head at 8am so i can suffer like i deserve to.
Oh man, buzzed lunch fridays almost got out of hand.
She roared AMY HORNEY and hulk hoganed her shirt off. Fuckin marriage time bro
I don't think I even want to know why you are sending my husband pictures of your nutsack.
He's in a nude suit, bald, with a pink headband and a black sharpie streak down his forehead.
Interesting occurrence: the application I use to keep track of my periods and sexual encounters just notified me it had been over 4 months since you were logged as an active partner and ask if I'd like to remove you from my options. Wow, kmsl.
At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he laughs at all of our attempts to keep him sober.
When I finally came to, I was in the DJ booth wearing his headphones while he was spinning. That's all I got.
I'm still questioning who dropped me off last night. So successful wedding?
He makes furniture for a living and is basically a hot, younger Ron Swanson
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