there was 4 little kids screaming in high pitched voices at the top of their lungs at the sox game and their mom just leaned over to me and said 'if thats not birth control i dont know what is'
You stuck the head of a rubber chicken you found in her house up your ass and then started running around her living room. Naked.
The guy who took my order at mcdonalds asked for my number. I think we should start fucking fast food employees, they're easy and think we're goddesses.
Come to me. Jacob is confessing his love and all I want is a hot dog. With chili. Not love.
he just texted me saying he needs a place to stay for the night. pretty sure i just got booty called to my own house...
$100 bras are my way of telling my boobs that I love and appreciate them, and all the metaphorical doors they have opened for me.
If by "in control" you mean him showing-up to work wasted, calling a customer a "fuckstick," and getting fired on the spot? Then yes, he is.
Every shot buddy I have I end up blowing. I don't know whether this pattern is good or bad.
I command you to take a shot and dance like the pretty little gay boy you are.
Walk of shaming dressed as a zombie hunter. This hangover feels like the actual apocalypse.
I stared at his lazy eye for so long, he thought I had one too. Then we bonded over our lazy eyes. I had to fake one all night. My head is fucking killing me. NEVER pretend to have a lazy eye.
By NOT going to the gym, I'm helping my future. I don't want stripping, prostitution, or porn to be viable money making options.
And don't worry, I have a great track record of rallying after a casual midday blackout.
I am mentally ready for anal.
thanks for letting me have sex in your bed, too bad you didn't get to yet
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