I just ate a whole bag of celery instead of getting up to get a glass of water. That high.
I almost got away with it until she smelled beer on the stroller.
Why is there a blood-covered "sorry about your stuff" note stapled to my door?
Man, only now that I'm single is it painfully obvious that I have zero booty calls in waiting. This could be a cold winter
Every time I think about it I can feel His toe in my mouth and I gag, I'm scarred for life.
I want someone to sweep me off my feet and you want someone to fuck you on the kitchen table. They're both perfectly logical needs.
I'll be home next weekend. Its mothers day. Let's party just enough so we are frightened it might be our first
Henceforth: booty calls will now be referred to as "deliveries of anatomy". That is all.
Just remembered when I first started going down on him he goes "ok now I feel a little better about the broncos losing"
I need time to grow out my leg hair and not be sad anymore
I don'y know if I should feel accomplished or disgusted. I just ate a dozen cookies all to myself. I'm leaning more towards accomplished.
I WANNA SUCK HIS DICK ON A BOAT
Some bitch is passed out in a pool of vomit. Fucking lightweight, it's only 8.30.
Oh, wait.. That's you.
I'm drinking because I just started here and every single person I work with wants to quit and when I asked a coworker how she's doing she literally just started crying.
I walked in the kitchen and heard her saying "We could have been so good together" as she caressed an egg with her cheek.
Randomize