Beer is about to convince me to do something really stupid.
I have way too much money in my bra to be responsible.
I'm glad you trust me to be your sex stat keeper.
Walk of Shame today included voting.
No fucking idea. Just paid for my chipotle in chocolate coins, though. Either there is a huge language barrier happening here, or my big boobs are finally paying off.
He made me a "booty call of the year" award.
You need an intervention. You fell into traffic walking home.
Not really. Birthday weekend. Totally jusifiable. Besides I didn't get hit. No harm no foul.
Yay for living on the edge. I'm trying this new thing where I stop mom-arming people and promote bad decisions. It's working quite well.
He was just lying on the living room floor watching Star Wars with six empty pack of cigarettes and two empty cases of beer.
In his defence I guess I did take the bed, couch and dining room set in the breakup.
I am walking funny today. And it's sad because it's from the bad encounter with the sidewalk rather than a good encounter with a stripper
I dealt with the imported moonshine, but when the cocaine came out, I had to get the fuck out of there
I slept with one of the directors so you would get a good price on the ballroom for your reception. I'm the best MOH. You owe me bitch
If you had been home 20 minutes ago, you probably would've caught me masturbating, so it might be for the best.
You have the perkiest tits in all of North America. You're fine.
My manager gave me an envelope with money in it before he had vacation, and when I asked what it was for, he said it will be his bail money.
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