its like the voldemort of pregnancies, we don't talk about it
Don't feel too badly. Until twenty minutes ago my paper was a heading and a pizza order.
if my spotter knew I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack on my iPod, I wouldn't even be mad if he dropped the barbell on my throat
All was going smooth until he pulled a condom out of his collection he kept in a Cheesy Gordita Crunch Box from Taco Bell.
Why not. Its my b-day, you're in town, I'm in town, bars are in town, and alcohol is in town. I don't see anything not good about those things.
I may or may not have just ruined a marriage. But in my defense I got all my drinks for free tonight.
Kinda sad when you get home on a Sunday morning and the paper guy HAND DELIVERS the newspaper to you...,
just had sex on top of a camper looking at the stars, BEAT THAT.
And fyi howling is not an acceptable form of communication.
I thought it was my alarm clock, turns out it was her vibrator still going off on the side of my face.
DIBS ON THE NEW GUY.
NO. NO FUCKING YOUR COWORKERS
I apparently asked the bartender for a plastic bag and told her I was gunna puke then grabbed two handles from the bar then put the handles in the plastic bag and left.....
Oh my God it's like my cock was dipped in lava
I'm dancing with a sandwich I just made cause I'm so happy how delicious it tastes, that high haha
I got drunk off three vodka cranberry’s and told him to “WWE raw dog me.” Fucking kill me.
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