Cold hands, warm shart.
So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
We were so bored at work tonight that we were in dry storage taking turns pouring the boxed wine we use for cooking into each others' mouths. I think I'm starting to understand the "problem" aspect of "drinking problem."
when she started arguing that Girl Talk was in fact a DJ, i knew i could never sleep with her
I swear I have "I love assholes" written on my forehead with ink that only guys can see.
Actually, considering the facts that I am wearing a duct tape dress and eating a gas station quesadilla, I am pretty good.
ARE YOU GOING TO SACRIFICE YOUR LIFE FOR MCDONALDS HASHRBOWNS
I should also mention that having been a sheltered child, I am conditioned to have serious kinks and find upper bodies of either sex attractive. And legs.
Hey, if I'm gonna bastard a child and ruin his life, I'm going balls out.
Want to FaceTime and watch me finish this bagel?
so serious though like its almost like I'm playing a game that's my life and Im always losing
Dude fuck drugs. It's 4am and I'm eating mushroom ravioli fantasizing about jumping on a trampoline
Nothing says Happy Thanksgiving like running into your ex boyfriend at the liquor store at 3 in the afternoon.
We ended the night eating peanutbutter with our hands and smoking cigarettes in the house at 4am. Fucking Everclear, man.
Is it totally acceptable to fuck a co-worker even though we don't speak the same language?
Why do you even have to ask me that question
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