I'm home alone watching The Hills seasons, eating pickles and drinking straight rye. I just googled "how to make friends". Probably not the most pro-active solution. Help.
She's making her own pesto again. Cooking spaghetti in the microwave and "frying" vegetables in the toaster oven. All this while wearing the yellow rubber gloves and saying that the pesto has feelings like a real person. Im terrified.
My therapist told me it was ok for me to "take risks" now. Cue the hookers and blow.
Stop. He threw up in front of Madison Square Garden security. Spit at the guys feet and grunted ughhh at him.
Miller High Life will be the death of me. Well, that and shower sex.
He sent me a Microsoft outlook meeting request to blow him in the storage room at work. I had to accept.
Currently getting "blaow" buzzed into my pubes. How's your thursday?
Bring a bathing suit and your good liver.
My good liver is still at the dry cleaners. Will my backup liver suffice?
Maybe
I told the guy that if he didn't put enough pepperoni to earn the name " pepperoni feast", that I was gonna sue him for all he had. Believe it or not, that's all I remember.
We're like a dynamic duo.
Bisexual and Proud, Lesbian and Loud.
This is stupid. I am not getting knocked up from fucking in his backseat behind a starbucks. I refuse.
I'm using her Instagram as a way to know where in town she is so I can avoid her lol
Ask me if I'm sitting naked in a lawn chair eating a block of cheese waiting for a bacon grilled cheese sandwich
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?
This is very awkward but where is my dildo, Mom
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