There comes a time in every man's life where he has to shit in a catbox to prove a point.
I twisted my ankle last night doing a super high five with 3 inch heels on.
Just took my morning after pill in the library
i'm at the point now where i want him to say anything. even an apology for his boomerang-shaped penis would be nicer than no comment.
there was enough confetti in my bra to throw another NYE party
Just bought a McDouble with a tightly rolled dollar. The lady just gave me a sad face...
in the middle of fucking he asked me if i had gotten a haircut because he noticed i didnt have split ends anymore. i dont know what to think
My gyno overestimated by 3 TIMES the amount of sex we have per week. First of all, he must think I'm a freak. Secondly, I think we should catch up.
Also, I'm going to TRY and be casual this weekend, but really, we need to be serious about equally dividing our time between party and bullshit.
I hopped in a random dudes car outside the strip club at 3pm on a Sunday and said "Follow that car!"
I just got invited to party with a bunch of elderly lesbians I am in no position to offer life advice
He started tongueing his parfait and told "thats what I'd to your ass" in the middle of Starbucks. Of course i brought him home
He stole my heart. I stole his identity.
you should just get a floor plan of your dorm and start checking off rooms.
I got some blow and a hand job from one of the strippers. So I guess I'm getting over the divorce.
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