The fact that I found him in his Ninja Turtles t-shirt next to six empty and obviously consumed packs of EasyMac watching reruns of Becker certainly made telling him that I wanted a divorce so much easier than I had planned.
Holy mother of cocks. I was grind-with-my-boss drunk last night.
i just unblacked out cuddled in a pita pit booth with ten dollars rubberbanded to my hand.
Someones grandma was rubbing my back. I'm way too high for this.
She was wearing some slutty variation of a toga and giving the entire bus a pep talk on why we should black out tonight...I'M IN LOVE AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT!
We got a standing ovation as security was escorting us out of the ballpark, it was a proud moment
Matt's offering to breast feed it.
my whole wardrobe smells like substance abuse
I don't want to get pregnant doggy style. That's sad.
Seriously. If I'd known all it took was a 29 year old UPS guy to make me feel THIS SEXY, I'd have been fucking them for 30 years.
She's too awesome to dump: she gives me great blow jobs and free Popeyes. You just don't burn a bridge like that.
I will consider it. I need to determine if ogling him is worth almost certain death via zipline.
I think I'll shower sitting down. That seems safe.
I just mixed tangerine juice with sauv blanc. on an unrelated note, my episide of intervention is slated to run in April.
Oh my God it's like my cock was dipped in lava
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