You know, sometimes I seriously doubt your commitment to sparkle motion.
so it turns out that "condoms galore" does, indeed, come up on your bank statement
I don't care. He smelled like a fucking chilli cookoff
Honestly, it's not that easy picking a Saturday night outfit that can translate to Palm Sunday mass. Priorities.
He's. Duct. Taping. His. Phone. To. The. Wall.
There is a pile of hair outside the apartment next door. At least now I know what all that shouting was about last night.
So the bartender tried kicking me out but i screamed im an RA you cant kick me out
My night can be summed up in 3 words: Vodka. Threesomes. Hospital.
So I'm guessing that puking on a camper is a straight path to instant termination?
he stopped talking to me, quit his job, moved out of the province and then told me it was "no big" when I called him apologizing...
id like to think im the only pot dealing prostitute that is also an ordained minister. but maybe not. what a time to be alive
It was a good dick. I give credit where credit is due. A good dick deserves praise.
I guess it's part of life. Sometimes your ex boyfriend becomes a drag queen.
i knew it was a party when i saw you sitting on the couch naked with the keg in your lap, still drinking and passing out cups
fuck st louis. fuck their hockey. fuck their basball. fuck their football if they still got it. fuck their tiddlywinks teamm. fuck their ribs. fuck their entire city. what im trying to say is i dont like st louis
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