It's hipsters with their motorcycle cop mustaches, moccasins, douchey irony, and department stores to supply their independent conformity
Something's gotta give!
I told him I was pregnant. Figured it would soften the blow of telling him I had herpes.
Did it?
Not as such, no.
you kept typing in answers.com, why are the state police calling my house, expecting an answer
you are getting stockholm syndrome from your pubes
I'd rather say I'm a whore then admit it's his child. Its that bad.
He's having sex with his gf again. Every thump of his bed against the wall is insulting to our one night stand.
Today I'm judging my level of singleness on a scale of one to eat-a-can-of-frosting. It's not looking good for me.
Ooooh. Get funfetti
Romney sounds like a middle school girl and that creepy ass smile makes me want to close my blinds
I dont even think your gonna like what I got you for christmas. If not we can take it back and get drugs.
This message brought to you by inappropriate slogans. Cotton candy, melting in your mouth like boners.
Do you think there are two dudes living in an apartment somewhere that go to the store and call it Brocery shopping?
Oh god...probably.
The time stamp on this text message is reason enough alone to not leave me unsupervised
the only things my left hand does: catch/hold things and masturbation.
It was extremely weird and uncomfortable mid blow job she looks up and says " tell me Simon Cowell makes your dick hard"
I wrote myself a note last night telling me to tell you that you're the best person ever, and asking you not to tell me what I did, I think I'm trusting my drunk judgment on that one.
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