Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
we gave some random guy a shot for shoveling our sidewalk.
Only you could be admitted to the ER and walk out with a nurse's phone number. I wish I was gay
He can spot Burberry from half a bar away. He's not into vag
New carpet is nice. I'm making carpet angels. Like a fresh snowfall.
The US State Dept doesn't need to know I'm a high strung drunken whore.
I may have farted on a group of children. It may not have been an accident.
I just want to fuck you then discuss implications of our existence afterwards. Then Doritos and hot tub.
we have what I like to call an assload of ramen noodles
It wasn't so much a one night stand as much as one night she puked on my nightstand.
And then he serenaded me with "Pimps don't cry" from 'The Other Guys'. If that's not love I'm not sure what is
I was just lying down, dumping goldfish into my mouth and they like all came out I thought I was going to choke and die and people would be like damn that's so sad, she died laying in bed stuffing her face and reading kanye wests twitter, damn.
Babe, Have you see my pants?
Try Jay street in Brooklyn.. that's where I last remember seeing them.
Stoned. Scared. Bring pool noodle and onion rings.
My mother expressed her concerns about my drinking via a facebook message.
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