I think I died a long time ago.
If it wasnt for meatballs I would have fucking killed myself already.
halfway through eating me out he goes 'oh that reminds me i have to buy fish for good friday'
giving a 30 min presentation still drunk is like giving birth, upside down in a pit of snakes while being on fire.
No, we talked about it. They're cool with me living here as long as I sleep with them both.
You're a rent hooker.
I'm going to practice throwing things up the the air and catching them between my boobs, because that seems like a cool party trick.
Getting a vibrator would be like waving the white flag of surrender in this war against my vagina and its hormone army.
This is embarrassing but i think i might have left my fake tooth at your house on your night stand.
I dont think I should be allowed to pick my own boyfriends anymore
There a special place in hell for drunk criers. A special FUCKING PLACE
Definitely but only if you hit on the 16 year old in the karate class as part of your waffle and gin fueled sexually deprived rage.
I no longer exist. I have transformed into a puddle of sex.
I may have had sex with him and told him we wasn't worth my time then went home and made mashed potatoes
I'm like the big dick whisperer.
Is it okay to mention my ambition to become a supervillian and kill all humans on a first date, or is that a second date discussion?
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