No seriously, I have to sell the house because my wife found out I'm gay.
I tried to pay my bar tab with my gym membership card. Twice.
it was like fucking the hulk in a smartcar
I could literally track my booty calls if I ever got knocked up by my parking tickets
the party was called freshmen disorientation. i was just following the theme
that freshman chick we always see on the weekends walked into art class wearing a jaegermeister shirt and holding a monster, which she proceeded to shotgun with a pair of scissors. It sickens me to know I will never achieve her level
When he grabbed my tits it felt like he was either giving me a mammogram or trying to pierce my nipples with his fingers.
I have a strict rule of what enters my vajay. It's either sparkly, or human. Anything else and I draw the line. Standards.
So, I'm drinking, and I put my head down in the table. The cat jumped up to check on me, I have a cat sober monitor.
You're a five foot adderall and caffeine fueled ball of sexual frustration and suppressed rage. It's only a matter of time before you snap. We're taking bets on when.
Her ex was at the party her housemates were having. He knocked on her door asking how she was while we were going at it. Turns out they were trying to work things out. Don't think I'll ever forget his face when we walked out of her room.
My credit card got frozen due to suspicious activity. "Let's go over your recent transaction history... it looks like these are all at bars." BITCH, DON'T JUDGE MY MONDAY NIGHTS.
Plan before tomorrows interview: wash off green glitter from EVERYWHERE!!!
It seems I've entered my 21st birthday the same way I entered this world: naked, crying and smothered in someone else's bodily fluids...
i don't think the phrases "so shitty" & "taking care of my newborn" should be combined in the same sentence. leave it to her to make it possible eh?
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