So my shaver died while I was trimming...ya know. And now it is half way done. I don't think there's currently any aesthetic in keeping it this way...
those are such fre$h shoes
going to ignore the use of the word "fresh" in a sentence that isnt related to produce and/or other food stuffs and especially the part where you replaced an "s" with a dollar sign
I KNOW you don't honestly think you can pay me back in lotto tickets.
Do not buy whiskey under any circumstances. There should be a UN sanctioned buffer zone between me and Seagrams.
It's that "make a Pringle and Twinkie sandwich" kind of depression.
We play beat the clock every morning. When the alarm goes off, she hits snooze and drops her panties. If I can't finish in time to beat the snooze, she jumps in the shower and I've gotta jerk off.
I give up. I can't handle that class sober any longer. I have an army of whiskey shooters for the next three weeks. Wish me luck.
That's the 3rd time in 6 months I woke up on the hallway floor using a towel as a blanket, no clue how I got there. At least back when I was still drinking I could blame something other than myself for that kind of shit.
You should go to AA meetings and warn people about the dangers of sobriety.
At least he finally released me from his spooning oven of death...
I don't care if we're married you can't just walk into the bedroom with a pizza box expecting to get laid
This hangover is what we deserve after that level of debauchery.
Ya know, one would think a restraining order would keep me from fucking my ex.
My "birthday sex" consisted of approximately 25 seconds of him going down on me in the shower.
And here I am, playing fetch with my cat at two in the morning.
I need to leave my mind and my stupid vagina are having fight over who's right
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