my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
don't you miss dr. quinn: medicine woman? i do.
I bought a fake diamond ring to wear, not only to bars to keep the creeps away, but so that I'll be judged less by the front desk girl at Planned Parenthood
Before I roll over explain to me why you're naked and on my floor.
I just want to have sex and eat oreos. and then take body shots. like everyday.
Gym?
Sweet baby Jebus, no. I'm Motley Crue hungover. This must be how it feels to rail a line of ants.
I know everytime I get my paycheck I'm like "I should probably renew my gym membership" and then I just buy more alcohol
I had to wash my hair with conditioner because my sister got hammered and gave the dog a 3am sprinkler bath with my shampoo.
Drinking Hot Toddies on the Porch and blasting bob dylans "hurricane" bring it on sandy!
He sat on me and said I owed him $10, when I asked why he just said "lap dance"
I found a loose wire in my thermostat. Couldn't find the pliers, so I used a nipple clamp to fix it.
We couldn't leave for the bar until he spent 10 minutes adjusting his vaporizer. I want to drown him in beard oil.
I was just informed that I asked for a glass of wine at the police station
I'm sure it would have gone very well with the cigarette you lit there.
I told her I'd rather set my hair on fire than sleep with her again. In retrospect, that was probably too harsh. My eye is still swollen shut.
Quick question. If you break the bathroom sink off the wall from fucking on it, can you claim it on your homeowner's insurance as a 'natural disaster'?
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