the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
Our adventure is going to pick up his pipe and weed that he ditched when he got pulled over the other day.
HOT DATE.
you kind of just crawled on top of him. that was the point at which i became concerned with how drunk you were.
i watched you ride a mechanical penis. nothing is awkward between us anymore.
I'm not really into her personality. Not that we've ever looked for personality in women.
That's only a quality to look for in a second marriage.
I left my pipe in my center console with a bowl packed when I took my car to the shop, and when I picked it up the weed had been smoked, but my oil change was only half price.
I made a list on my phone of places I want to fuck, it's right under my list of groceries I'm getting a little too used to regular sex but dude monogamy is the shit
Blacked out last night, but left myself a note that said "oops on oops on oops" that can never be a positive
You sent me snap chats of you guys having sex. Like plural. It was like flip book porn, I'm traumatized.
My tweets this weekend consisted of me telling every bar I went to that they were my favorite valentine. I've never felt like more of an alcoholic
I think I'm crying more because after all these years he never learned to spell you or use a comma properly from me
He was trying to talk to me about standards while he had a french fry box on his hand like a glove and was using it to flatten his cheeseburger.
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS FOR YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR ONCE
As a side note, can you ask the maintenance staff not to drag their balls on our stairwell handrails. Please.
So bottomless mimosas = me waking up in a truck bed in a random neighborhood with no purse or phone or idea how I got there.
Randomize
