I'm done. I'm tired and there's a topless pic of me floating around the nation's largest 3G network.
It's like God knew that was my ex's best friend and punished me. I've never vomited that much in my life.
you hid your keys in a box of lucky charms because drunk you was apparently going to eat them for breakfast...
I don't know ur idea of a good first date but I'm pretty sure it shouldn't include him holding my hair while I puke in the street
i wasn't gonna shower then i remembered i slept in my own piss
attractive or not, he has more than one book on serial killers. i'm gonna get out of here while i can
did i send you the picture of me smiling with the magnum wrapper?
she comes in perfect pitch. hook up with more singers.
Gay bathhouses. They're actually a thing. So god does exist. And he doesn't hate me as much as you think he does
you know it's been too long when the heat of a pizza box on your lap turns you on.
In hindsight following that black guy in the ghostbusters costume was a terrible decision on everyone's part
So it's official the pockets of my work apron exist solely for the purpose of secretly flipping off asshole customers and not losing my job.
Just get over here and light metaphorical fireworks in my literal vagina
the good news is I finally used my captain america waffle maker to make captain america waffles
I'm totally picking out my shrooming outfit and blankets right now
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