Note to all middle aged "I totally let myself go after childbirth" frumpy mothers: I do not dress this way for your husbands. Stop looking at me like that. It's not my fault.
I was talking to a guy at my work, and mid-sentence he started vomiting violently for about five minutes, then he said, " great dope" and carried on like nothing had happened.
You know what's worse than asking for the morning after pill? Asking for the morning after pill in a sketchy hospital in a foreign country where no one speaks English.
The kind of drunk where you put two tampons in thinking that it'll last me longer ...
He shattered his pelvis base jumping so his dicks out of commission for 4 months. Your up, second string.
It was the highest I'd ever been. I felt like a blob. A blob eating a burrito.
he showed me his third nipple on the first date. I might have low to no standards, but my god.
I think all three of us just need to suck it up and go to lunch with him to keep our bar tab down
I couldn't break up with him while I was wearing a Hakuna Matata shirt.
My hangover headache is somewhere in the Harry Potter scar neighborhood. I can now empathize with that poor bastard.
He seems like a nice guy. I mean, I know he's married and he's essentially paying me to be his side hoe, but he really seems like a good person.
all I remember the next morning was crawling through the doggy door and finding my underwear in my purse
Bootycalls can't go limp that's like against the law
Is it sad that I just pissed sitting down so I didn't have to stop eating doritos?
Do you remember standing up at 3 in the morning and asking me if I was counting to six?
Randomize
