Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Farted during a conference call.SBD. permeated the room people were gonna puke.noone could say anything or leave cus we were on the phone with clients. coworkers were outraged.how I still have a job is beyond me.
you came home covered in oatmeal wearing a tutu holding a stolen wrotting pumpkin and "its a girl" balloons tied around your neck.you were whispering the lyrics to aaron carters 'aarons party'. i think the real question was what DIDNT you drink last night
You just kept insisting that you and the homeless man went way back, and that you bonded over how cold you both were.
I woke up to find that chris drank one of my contacts.
Yeah he's good at that.
and a jello shot exploded in my bra last night. Now I have blueberry smurfette boobs. Awesome.
Yeah but then I feel like it's worth it like bro you just stabbed me the least you can do is get me a fuckin otter pop.
In the liquor store when a straight girl and a gay guy were just arguing about who hooked up with the same guy first.
Sexting Captain while emailing my eharmony match about my low key weekend is hard.
I know how to kill a man with nutmeg and a sword. You in?
Or nah
Theres just something about today that says lets get drunk, dont you think?
The only thing I want for my birthday is a divorce from you.
I'm on someone's yacht. I don't know who. But I'm on it. There's a guy passed out in a kilt holding bagpipes. Help.
I told him that he could either pay the 10 dollars for the box of condoms or I'll make him pay for the diapers.
He smells like sex and magic. I’m already naming our children
Maybe you should talk to him first
Randomize
