What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
Her vagina smelled like bad decisions
on the way to work, i saw an empty wine bottle sitting in the middle of an intersection. i thought of you.
i can respect that.
She insisted on fucking on the futon mattress on the floor, answered the phone call from her boyfriend who was on his way to pick her up, and then had the audacity to ask if I was clean
I put bits of fruit cocktail in the jello shots i made because i knew that they were gonna be the only thing we ate all day
Sudden realization: I dumped him because he was too immature, yet I am the one who moved back into my parent's basement post-breakup.
It was cool in an 'oh shit I'm gonna get arrested' way.
Tonight that bitch will not be with him. You will drunkingly talk him out of this wedding. It is your duty as the one with the least amount of soul. Good luck.
It's like the last supper of drinking before the summer ends
his face was nice enough, but his choice of footwear screamed columbian drug lord
PLEASE. I won't throw up on the floor this time. Or fuck in the bathroom. Or dance on the pool table. So PLEASE.
By talk him into it I assume you mean blow him into it.
is it just me or does "lol" kill any sort of vibe while sexting?
While buying Plan B the lady at the counter looked at me and said hope you have a successful night as I walked away in shame
My apartment stinks of burning failure
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