you screamed 'he won't go on a date with me, but he gave me a free junior chicken'
well imagine, me dating the manager equals free junior chickens for everyone
A true measure of a good friend is how long she responds to her friends drunken illogical texts. Youre a champ.
I just threw up in the bathroom next to the zebra exhibit. The kids don't know I skipped a beat. Best nanny, ever.
Also I spent like 2 hours on the hubble/nasa website sunday night looking at pictures of outer space and cried my face off at how beautiful and complex it is. What's wrong with me?!
We still on for coffee?
Cream and sugar. Deliver to planned parenthood in 45.
So half of us were already throwing up outside when the Ukrainians ask us if we're ready to start partying yet. I love this country.
For the record, just because I'm a mess doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about when I give you advice. I'm way better at other people's lives.
Just high enough for therapy.
So I'm dropping a fat deuce at work, and the lock on the stall door slips and the door slides open, when suddenly someone comes in. Now I have two options, I can either get up quickly and try to shut the door quickly (not easy to do with one hand) or I can just sit there and play it off like it's no big deal and I always dump at work with the door open. I chose option two, and it was as awkward as it sounds.
You might have been able to redeem yourself had you not referred to grandma as "this bitch".
That explains the hand print on my face. That old lady knows how to throw a punch.
What's his name?? He crossfits 6 times a week, works in finance & is into the occasional felony class drug. His name is irrelevant in order to know if I wanna bone him again.
Shout out to this stomach virus for helping me prepare for whatever slutty Halloween costume I decide to wear.
There is absolutely a 0% chance my hips will make it out of this twerking business fully functional
Just passed the animal clinic parking lot I had to pull over to puke in during welcome week. I can almost hear the dogs barking at my shame again.
My FitBit tracked the calories I burned during sex. Hello 2015!
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