Dear yesterdays makeup, Thank you for always being there when I stay up late binge drinking on weeknights and am running late to work Friday morning. You're the best.
You should probably just propose to him the old fashioned way: sleep with him and get pregnant.
I just wiped my vajayjay with snow. Bad idea.
I just walked by a party bus on my way to study. God hates me.
Give us adventure or give us cock. Or cocktails.
I tried to interpretive dance to Candy Shop to stop the awkwardness.
Can't talk right now. I'm doing tequila shots with my professor at some Mexican bar. That's how I prepare for finals.
WHO THE FUCK TAGS THEMSELVES AT COUNTY JAIL?!?!
I feel like I got run over by a bus full of inebriated Scotsmen on the way to a soccer riot.
He ordered three small pizzas while I was giving him head.
I keep shaking cocoa puffs out of my hair. Best Sunday Funday ever.
I think we've entered a low point in our relationship when I'm sending you pictures of pubic hair designs "because they're funny"
Pretty sure my idea of standards went out the window when I hooked up with a guy who had a rooster tattoo with an arrow pointing down to his no no bits. Think about it.
Look, all I'm saying is that you're going to be a great Vodka Mom.
She's better-looking with the mask on.
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