My t9 writes chubies instead of bitches.
either way. win, win.
Apparently you walked through my house with your dress on your head
god, a vagina is an amazing trump card
I just threw up and a whole piece of spaghetti came out of my nose. I don't even remember eating spaghetti.
Realized I'm still to drunk to comprehend work emails. Marked them all as unread. Here's to responsible hang overs.
I'm in a pile of cheezits at an unfamiliar location watching dateline on tlc. Stage an intervention.
I seriously don't understand how you keep getting laid.
Because I'm like the spider of false hope. I spin elaborate tales and snare them in my web of utter disappointment. They soon realize their mistake, but by then it's too late.
My day may involve a drug pinata. I LOVE MY LIFE.
Within the hour, he sent me 8 texts and 4 voice memos. One of the memos was just him whistling for 3 minutes. ...It's official, I attract the crazies.
We're going to work out tomorrow I guess but it usually consists of doing weights for 10 minutes, then saying fuck cardio and going to Taco Tuesday
After owing so much in back child support they should make vasectomy a mandatory
A duck just looked me in the eye whilst I peed in a lake. I feel so dirty.
When you're not at your house I assumed you're somewhere having sex
I work 80 hours a week to prevent myself from just laying in bed and masturbating all day. It's a hands off strategy.
#tbt to when you let me put plastic wrap on your balls and hum a little song
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