It made me feel like I need a reality show of my life so I could go back and watch the episodes to figure out how I got from the trunk of the car to my neighbors tree house...
Dear man in the lobby please go play whith yourself elsewhere
his eyes are fucked up, he bumped into the cabinet while standing in my office, and he's pounding chicken soup, and he must have chewed on 8 pieces of gum before he got here.
Rather than admit to myself he's hooking up with her right now, I choose to believe that he's not responding because he's masturbating to my picture, distraught over his poor choice, and trying to forget about the one that got away with a heavy dose of meth.
I'm convinced my penis is the only thing holding this relationship together.
I need to beat up a magician now. BRB.
YOU WOULD BE SEEING ME. IN MY KITCHEN. BENDING OVER MY OVEN. MAKING YOU CAKE.
Wait, that's an option?
my neighbors having band practice on sunday morning is a message from the universe that I should stop drinking
In retrospect, vomiting out of a moving vehicle on the third date should have been a deal breaker
The thing about pooping in the woods during hunting season is you never know if someone's watching you.
He started yelling terms of endearment at a cheese sandwich. Then he tried to hump it.
If I die write a nice eulogy and bury me with my star wars bobbleheads
I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I blew a Trump supporter.
I just had a visual of u banging and screaming at him at the same time.
If by whore you mean UPGRADE....then yes I am
Randomize
