Now that I'm the boss, there's nobody to yell at me for smelling like a bar in the morning.
He called me "the Joe Montana of blowies." Not sure if that is an accomplishment or an insult, but going off of the amount of condensation on the windows of my car, I'm gonna just do a little touchdown dance and pass out.
I was excited because I thought I didn't have to tell you about the crabs, but surprise! You got em!
Just snuck alcohol into the hospital for my mom.
Oddly enough when I decided to stop whoreing myself out... I lost most of my companionship.
He turned down a handjob. A HANDJOB. I know I'm no Jessica Simpson, but...
Actually, she's fat now, so...
Fuck. I AM Jessica Simpson.
I'm currently bartering with this guy so I can fuck his bi girlfriend. We're at 5 pizzas and he gets to watch us make-out.
Hannah wants to know if she cant borrow your stats notes because she threw up on hers.
Okay so for future reference and your own safety I should probably tell you that it is not cranberry juice in that bottle on the kitchen table.
I learn from experience and I experienced what it would be like to completely lose my mind and then wake up with a stab wound.
Yo this huge scar on my head from the car accident is truly a vag magnet. Probably because I'm telling people I was attacked by a mountain lion and killed it with my bare hands. But hey when life gives you lemons, you use them to get pussy
I was told that I need a reference for my blow job skills. Be expecting a phone call tomorrow.
Pooping with Eye of the Tiger playing. Not a single fuck shall be given.
My date ended with her leaving the bar with that guy who used to jerk off in the back of the school bus.
Well, he pretended he was climbing me like he was a monkey and I was a tree during sex.
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