I swear I have "I love assholes" written on my forehead with ink that only guys can see.
just saw bouncers outside a coffee shop. beginning to question humanity.
disregard all texts ive sent you minus taco motherfucking bell
I'm now at that point where it just feels natural to do a few shots of whisky with breakfast and then head to work
I just got a mental picture of us having sex in a trash can.
I'm drinking carlo rossi straight from the jug. I don't have any clean cups...how am I still at this point in my life...
I found the hair cut I want on the girl in the porno I'm watching. now really sure how to show my stylist.
seriously when did my vagina become a soup kitchen for the poor
I just feel like you're using me for sex.
I'm glad you finally understand the context of our relationship
you started petting my head and said "there there, majestical unicorn. it won't be long before we get you back to neverland."
So... crashing at the hot bartender's place is not a solid marital decision.
You tried crawling through the apartment window instead of going through the wide open door next to it
Every time I try to do something productive I end up searching ghost porn.
I'm not going out, it's sweat pants and gallon vodka night at my place and I'm the only one on the guest list.
This is because you lost at fooseball isn't it?
Should I be concerned that he called me mom when I got in bed on top of him?
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