My mom just found some of our lube mixed in with my box of pots and pans. I hate moving home.
whiskey dick. though we did manage to break my closet door and flood the bathroom.
Well she just peed in a pot and is now trying to boil it
So, I was thinking... Since this restraining order doesn't go into affect until monday, that leaves us 5 days to wreck his world.
Public service announcement: if you would like to continue receiving blow jobs, a 25% increase in fuck-giving will be expected immediately, and you're expected to give an actual flying fuck at least once a week. Brought to you by the ad council.
Fortunately for myself I'm twice as smart and half as drunk as everyone else. All things considered I'm leaving here three-to-five times richer than when I arrived.
Tomorrow, if I don't look at least 5% better than I do on a regular day to day basis, I want you to hit me and tell me that no one will ever love me if I continue to look like I just rolled out of a cocaine induced hibernation. I'm asking you for tough love.
He's sending me pics of Yellowstone scenery...the only thing I can think is "I would have sex next to that waterfall"
Like what did he say to his host family? The girl I causally sleep with on the weekends is coming over?! And they thought "well lets feed her dinner"
i don't think i have enough personality to make it through this date sober.
I wish I knew the extent of my injuries before I climbed over the fence. Might have avoided the need to purchase a cupholder for my wheelchair.
I think you just described to us the most perfect drunken fairy tale that has somehow never been written
I didn't want to fight, I just wanted to tell you to fuckoff.
Masturbated furiously for a half hour; ate a fistful of chocolate, then took a nap. Woke up and finished wrapping presents. I've got this holiday thing down.
Hey what you doing tonight?
Working at the hospital! So hurt yourself and come visit :)
See you in about a hour
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