It all came flooding back to me: there was a woman with one hand
there are singles shoved down my panties. this is the type of summer job i always wanted.
She was wearing a "Got Beer" hat and your bed had necco wafers all over it the next morning. Another story for the grandkids.
I wanna tell red shirt guy I'm pregnant and use the abortion money for Coachella.
His dick was as big as my arm. Giving him a handjob was like giving someone an Indian sunburn.
I HAVE FLAVORED BLOW. THIS SHOULD NOT EXISIT.
i will replace your cream cheese. there's enough for breakfast. you are my friend. i had guests we wanted bagels so bad im sorry. i left you notes. i love you. you have enough for a bagel or two and i will get you more. you are so pretty.
you just knocked on the window of the ambulance and waved at me as we drove away
If I ever write a book, i'm calling it "why do i work with fucktards?"
It'll be a good sequel to my other book, "why do i sleep with fucktards?"
I'm so hungover I literally am considering drinking from the fishtank to avoid getting out of bed.
Don't ask me how, but I have a squirrel in my backpack and I don't know what to do with it.
More importantly this is sex weather and i am striking out
He was dressed as the 420 Easter bunny...he looked like a walking anti-drug campaign.
Drinking from the bottle. In bed. Making dinosaur noises. Oh man.
I do NOT want my proposal story to start "...he was peeing on me and then..."
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