if you wake up with plaid pants on your floor in the morning, you made a bad decision.
atleast your grandma didn't give you her USED dildo just so you wouldn't have sex.
You kept running into the wall most of the night. When people asked you what you were doing you told them you were the kool-aid man and there was little kids on the other side of the wall who needed your juice
on toilet. in drag. drinking coffee vodka. I regret nothing.
It was literally me in an evening gown and him in a tux with six bottles of Vodka at Jons.
And this was for your brother's Christening?
Lesbians. Lesbians everywhere.
He's only a little bit crosseyed.
I think this is one situation where "a little bit" doesn't mean much.
I think I need to stop sleeping with him. Sex with him is just a reminder of the mediocrity of the rest of my life.
Currently bleeding through my leggings. Not good. Not good at all.
Hospital.
I am invincible.
She had forties taped to her hands and was trying to give him a hand job while he was passed out, with everyone in the living room.
When I picked you up, you were drinking Maker's Mark out of the bottle with a crazy straw.
I sliced my fucking arm open last night after margarita madness and had to drive myself to the ER. Got six stitches and a social worker came in and asked if I was abused due to my sex bruises. I literally had to tell her "don't worry, I like it rough"
I woke up to pizza pinned to my wall. So that's that.
Your penis is the destroyer of worlds.
Of course I fucked her, her man stole my bike when we were kids
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