Get out...Run...Or there's going to be a dick in your mailbox
Someday soon you'll wake up next to a bottle of jameson and a half eaten lean cuisine and then you'll be just like me.
I really need to stop coming home drunk and lint rolling my rabbit.
Yes, she gives me platonic blowjobs as part of our friendship.
I feel like a fucking princess. Like an heiress of a kingdom of drugs.
The nurse who handed me my discharge papers underlined and highlighted do not consume alcohol while on my painkiller its like she knows me.
I hate it when fuck holes buy me drinks at the bar. You don't know my order. You don't know me. You don't know where I've been. You don't know my life.
He literally named all the parts of the vagina as he fingered me. No more pre-med virgins.
Vodka and tater tots have managed to satisfy me more than most of the guys I've slept with.
I was just randomly reminded of the night you were wrapped up in a bed sheet carrying a full bottle of cookie dough vodka and warning neighbors of the weirdos running around
Having a heartfelt conversation with your boyfriends mom while sexting her son. If that's not multitasking, I don't know what is.
I slept on her porch...in her dads handcuffs
We lost a person.... if you see a man in yellow shorts and nothing else walking around let me know...
I'm completely creeped out. He's dressed as me. And thinks it's funny.
Turns out naked yoga wasn't a pickup line. I feel betrayed.
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