we have officially lost it.
Best look from Detroit today: running across the street with your buttcheeks on display carrying a 40 oz. Or maybe being crazy-pregnant and screaming and slamming a pay phone. Toss up.
You mailed him a break up letter, because you thought the "joy of receiving a letter" would ease the pain of you dumping him.
He's stoned as shit, eating breakfast cereal and taking a dump. All while listening to dubstep. We may never understand him.
Check Facebook. Random dude tagged us in photos from last night dancing at Denny's while eating a sampler platter. 1. How does he have our names, and 2. You said we ate at Tbell.
Just so you know, you're MY booty call. Feel degraded.
Why can't it ever be the normal ones that stalk me?
I need to stop going to bars and yelling "I could be teaching your kids one day, bitches!"
Remind me to tell you a really funny story about me and arson.
I'm trying to get WebMD to diagnose me with a hangover
If you magically turned into a tall white gay guy, ignore this message. If not, then I'm sure someone has your fb password.
Well, let's just say, I got that eye patch like we were joking about
My heart says buy the granny panties, but my vagina says don't throw in the towel yet.
Oh? And how would you explain this to your kids?
"Well pumpkin, when mommies and daddies have loved each other so much for a really long time, sometimes they trade off with other mommies and daddies"
Officially not baby mama #3. Celebration is in order.
Randomize
