And he just showed me his vera bradley wallet...
been sitting in chapter for 25 minutes. drinking last night's franzia out of a XXX vitamin water 10 bottle. recruitment chair has no idea. life is good.
smell my finger.
Piggyback rides are my preferred mode of transportation.
I just found him singing into an empty paper towel roll while microwaving an empty ice cream carton. I'm gonna run away now.
Your mom just threw up on me. Please come home.
I just remembered you had me meet your law professor while I was wasted...how'd that go?
I think it was the free bomb shots from the creepy bolivians that sent us over the edge
I'm actually not sure I need to run today, between the crazy monkey sex and breaking into my own house.
He was super stoned and then he compared doing meth to having anal sex and told me to "ride that cowboy." The cowboy being my ex.
I'm to the point where I'm fantasizing about Iron Chefs going down on me.
Imagine Arby's curly fries spiraled around a dick
Like will they card me for my own whiskey in shampoo bottles?
I've amended my previous statement: I'm not allowed to put in my two weeks till I ask out the waitress. Now I have motivation on two levels
Nxt time we drink that much, we'll have to hide the crayons. Crayola-ing a mural on the living room wall wasnt the brightest idea, but it sure is classy. Right?
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