Everything went well, until I walked into his bedroom and there was a Ronald Reagan poster watching over his bed - creepy
I'll bet she douches with gravy.
So I called her out for all the gossip she does and she's like "you do the same, bitch"
So I was like "Im classy like the Countess, youre just a bitch like Kim."
Kudos on the Interstate Housewife metaphor.
They're like penises that have been put in a blender.
Nothing like hearing a USA chant while getting head. God bless America.
I literally saw him try to open a beer can with his anus. We need o step up our game.
On a scale of one to america, how free are you this weekend?
Also, I threw up on the playground again. I've honestly had more fun there this past summer than I did in my entire childhood.
And I'm only telling you that because I really wanted to use 'my boyfriend' and 'dick biscuit' in the same sentence.
Please tell me that all of the things I remember doing last night didn't really happen. Please.
At one point in the night, as we were running from the cops, I clearly remember you yelling "little gnomes are tickling the insides of my body!" ...that high.
You carved your initals into all my vitamins and said "now a small part of me will be in you every morning" before you fell asleep with my thong on your head.
And here I am, playing fetch with my cat at two in the morning.
By the time we got to McDonald's you were sharing a Big Mac with a stripper.
His mom knocked on the door during morning sex because we were being too loud...now i have to meet her for the first time
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