News update: stealing a playground is harder than it looks.
He cooked me dinner. I showed my appreciation by showing up shithoused and breaking a bottle of steak sauce on his floor.
My boobs grew. They knew we were going to vegas.
when i got there he was on top of an air mattress in the middle of the pool with a bag of doritos and a 40 telling people he needed his space.
I don't think going to Relay for Life and painting our faces while everyone stares at us is a sufficent late night after the bars.
You need an intervention. You fell into traffic walking home.
Not really. Birthday weekend. Totally jusifiable. Besides I didn't get hit. No harm no foul.
You told the cashier at McDonald's not to smell the ones cause you had just got back from the strip club. Good deed.
She screamed at us, "You guys need to wake up and smell the beer-bong!"
On second thought, is it weird that I scheduled a surgery that determines my fertility around lingerie football night? I might have fucked up priorities.
Absolutely not. I would have done the exact same thing.
I hate ovaries. They're horrible little sacs of satanic enmity.
That's the most poetic description of female anatomy I've ever heard.
He asked when the last time I had sex was. I had to look at the clock and respond "12 hours ago"
It's 8 in the morning and you're doing coke and drinking margaritas. First, you have a problem. Second, why didn't you invite me?
remember when we said that thing when we met about how we were each glad we weren’t furries
ok listen,
It started off with wine and ended up with me in only my pearls and heels. It was about the classiest sexual experience I've ever had.
He ate me out in the passenger seat of his Range Rover in a Tim Hortons parking lot. I could hear “oh canada” on the radio from a nearby school as I came. Most patriotic orgasm ever!
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