So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
We're too lazy to do dishes, so we're making sangria in a flower vase.
He offered but I said no. I didn't think it'd be cool to accept cupcakes in the mens room of a gentlemans club.
Well he's not a stripper, so we're already doing better than my last date.
everyone thought he was too sick to make it, but he showed up. Ten minutes in and he's doing vodka shots with nyquil chasers
trading diseases for a hangover? that's either a really good decision or a really, really bad one. we'll find out if he wakes up tomorrow
Fuck a-yeah! I just found a wine key. Let 'Don't Fuck With Me Friday' commence.
MY MOM IS GOING TO SMOKE WITH ME.
SHE'S GOING TO SMOKE HIGH QUALITY MARIJUANA WITH ME.
Imma need a double jack on the rocks and a BJowsky from the hot bartender.
Yes I said BJOWSKY. Pronounced "buh jow skii".
See! Theres potential!
Oh yeah. All good relationships start with a threesome.
It's still 8am.
Yeah, but its wine drunk. WITH A DOCTOR. THAT MAKES MY MORNING CLASSY.
I just ordered a "football meatlong" from subway
YOU RAISED A SWORD OVER YOUR HEAD AND SCREAMED AT HIM WHAT THE FUCK ELSE DID YOU THINK WOULD HAPPEN?!
So here I am, sexting at work.
on a scale from 1 to "can't put a toothbrush in your mouth without gagging" how hungover are you?
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