I hope you have a really shitty weekend. I love you.
Well, for starters you dressed up in all Green and kept singing that song from "A Goofy Movie". Then you made us call you Powerline for the rest of the night...needless to say no, you didn't hook up with her
she sounds like chewbacca in bed
You told my mother that her salad dressing tasted like semen.
My new excuse for sleeping with him was in celebration of his cat's birthday.
She was so loose she sounded like a jar of salsa. I didn't know that was even possible.
I'll tell you what, we couldn't have asked for better binge-drinking weather.
I think I'm still fucked. I can see the electricty going through the street car lines
I have a busted ear drum from when he honked his horn when we started to have sex on his car in the parking lot...
If sitting in the car passing a flask back and forth because the bar we go to is having some power issues on Christmas eve isn't Christmas spirit, then I don't know is.
if I just puked into my own hand, but then cleaned it up quickly, quietly, and calmly, am I still a trainwreck?
I need to stop going to bars and yelling "I could be teaching your kids one day, bitches!"
And now I have fucked a local celebrity so double free drinks at bars.
That's what he gets for shittin at the strip club. Who does that??
I text the word "masturbation" so much, all it only takes my iPhone to auto-spell it is for me to type "mas".
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