My drug dealer is spending the weekend in my studio apartment. I feel like I've crossed a line that should never be crossed.
I had to sleep with my math professor to pass algebra. Apparently my blowjobs are only C+ quality
Jenna and Ryan are ranting and raving about child custody. MY VASECTOMY SMILES.
I was also standing on my bed with a road cone pounding on the ceiling at 3am. Not sure why
For some reason i am carrying prostate cancer brochures. i am nor used to drinking this early.
He told me that if his bed could talk, it'd write a medical journal. Guess it's too late to worry about that now.
Happy Birthday. May your liver respect you, fat bitches neglect you, hangovers reject you, and AA accept you.
somehow this went from sexting to explaining my eating disorder.
You better fucking tell me or I'm turning blow job week into go fuck yourself week.
just reached the point where my breast implants paid from themselves in free drinks.
I'm about to have a threesome at the hotel where I had my quinceañera. Becoming a woman under this roof for the second time, whaaat
Mike's my new hero. There's a flagpole of hook-up's bras on his porch and a week's supply of beer in his fridge but he still has a great job.
He was standing in the living room wearing a Donald Trump wig and looking very disappointed
Btw I appreciate you as a friend for taking the time to validate my sluttiness
I'm declaring this weekend Captain Morgan weekend
You declare every weekend Captain Morgan weekend...
You just don't understand... :'(
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