my house keeper must think I'm a prostitute.
pop tarts are not kleenex
I swear he shrunk like 2 inches. Remind me that drunk sex needs to remain drunk sex.
chlamydia ends and my period begins. this isnt real life
I'd be a gr8 surrogate. I'm gonna love your fetus
I get off at the next exit which doesn't have a shoulder, a guy is riding my ass so I cant stop. I think I got as much puke on his car as on mine.
I don't think casual Fridays means I can go to work with dried cum in my hair...
Whatever. That's why I am to be babied like a calf. I regret nothing.
That's always how I imagine things at your apartment...
Good, I'm glad you don't have some weird, skewed, clothed version of reality over here.
That's the last time I send a mass text invitation to smoke a blunt
You know just a typical night. Eating peanut butter off of tablespoons and having sex to our favorite Christmas carols. This is my favorite time of year.
It just smells like spaghetti and despair.
there's crying, and people are upset, and there's a love triangle, and a broken heart, and so much estrogen
I told you that you couldn’t eat fifty tacos, you slapped me in the face, ate seventeen tacos, and fell asleep on my floor
she crawled a good forty meters just to whisper in my ear... "dildon't"
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