The coffee and champagne are fighting over who gets to absorb the one pancake in my stomach
cell reception changed and I can no longer text you from the toilet... that means I'll be texting you less often, just fyi
I havnt even moved into my new place yet and there's already a county sheriffs card taped to the door with my name on it asking me to call him
Also, fighting a very strong urge to nickname your dick Whitey Bulger, at least for today.
In order of importance: Where am I? Where's my car? Where are my clothes? Who is this chick in the room?
Anne's couch, the bar, your car, Anne.
drinking from the bathtub cause I'm too lazy to walk downstairs and too thirsty to care
i'm calling it my monica lewinsky shirt now. may it live forever in infamy.
I have fuck me eyes 4/5 people agree. It's like doctors or dentists but with ppl who have lots of sex and know these things.
No Bryan wants to get drunk, rub inappropriate dudes legs, talk about my vagina and send me pics of his boomerang dick. That's not how you watch basketball.
That's how he does EVERYTHING!
I'm watching the Brazzers version of Mary Poppins and enjoying it. Volume on and all. 45 minutes.
So I got this new job… ever been fucked in a corner office before?
I'm eating shredded cheese and chugging coke, until I can function again. I'm tingling everywhere
If you can't beat em, make them send you dick pics so they can't do anything stupid again.
You had sex with a kid to spare him the shame of being a virgin. Evidence is on my side.
Listen, yo... we need to have a serious conversation about this Dollar Store toilet paper. Because if I’m going to finger someone’s ass, it’s not going to be my own.
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