the cure to his relationship is in or around my vagina.
No, we ended up finding him drunk at a bus stop downtown sitting on the bench asking people for chocolates and amazing stories to "rid his mind of his whore of a girlfriend"
He just used my bikini trimmer to give himself a fumanchu. And I still plan on having sex with him tonight. This has to be what true love feels like.
You mailed him a break up letter, because you thought the "joy of receiving a letter" would ease the pain of you dumping him.
I got rejected. By another girl. At a red light. In front of seven shirtless cyclists in the middle of the night. How is that normal?!?
Think I pulled my pelvic muscle.
I think I pulled my ashamed of myself muscle.
Sat down on an escalator. That hungover.
Yours weakened by children. Mine weakened by a forearm sized cock for 8 years.
The highlight of your blackout was when you drunk showered with the garden hose and emailed your boss your vacation requests for the next year.
At least one of us had a weekend full of money and dick
Drinking and pointing where stuff needs to go is hard stuff.
He invites me over too FucK and i wind up eating 6 jimboys tacos with his roommates. While he waited in his room. Maybe next time
my balls were so many shades of blue last night I could have used them as paint and replicated the entirety of Picaso's blue period. The girl was an art major I feel like this metaphor is appropriate.
No. Not going out tonight. No. It's Tuesday. Xanax and Full House Tuesday.
There's no triumph quite like finally banging your high school boyfriend 6 years later
Randomize
