I walked out of the bathroom and both of you girls were giving the gay guy head. I was like, "laaaterrr."
I think I'm pregnant with his hipster baby. It keeps kicking my stomach to the beat of mgmt songs.
On this egg donor form, it asks "In the past 5 years, have you had sex for drugs or money?" It only gives a yes or no option and no place to explain myself. What do I do?
We're not too concerned with getting her out of jail. We're on a mission for donuts.
It's my diet secret . . . it's like slimfast but I call it cockfast instead.
Well regardless of which drugs we choose to do tonight until four in the morning, we are having a wii bowling championship. So choose carefully.
You know, there is no convenient place for your beer when you are on shrooms taking a shower.
It's 9am. I'm four lines ahead of you already. Wake up.
I'm laying in the fetal position on the floor of my kitchen eating potato salad with my fingers. Please come over with some real food and keep me company.
I resisted the temptation to hold the cake in one hand to alternate bites with the ruffles I was eating. I decided that might make me look dysfunctional.
Feels like someone put a cigar out where my butthole used to live
GOOD NEWS I CAN BRING THE VODKA IN MY LUGGAGE
Literally every boy I've dated is now in a somewhat successful band. My vagina has obviously been blessed by the rock gods.
Just because I stayed up all night betting on Australian Horse Racing doesn't mean I have a gambling program.
Lies! You took my virginity, and now my cigarettes!
Randomize
