You need to stop texting me at SEVEN in the morning. It wakes my one night stands up and makes for the awkward talk way too early.
I'm cleaning the house. And I can't stop listening to Enrique Iglesias. Am I gay?
I even have the new album if that helps you make a decision.
Watching the 1st game of the world cup. I'll drunk dial you at 8:30 to wake you up for work.
Dude you didn't move for like 2 hours then suddenly sang the chorus to ghetto superstar and passed back out
I can't be the first person ever who had to explain why her bottle of orange juice had a picture of a screwdriver drawn on it
I'm calling into work with a wicked case of sledge hammer crotch. She has to understand
He has to watch his girlfriends kitten. Even when she is in Vegas, her pussy keeps him from getting into mine.
There comes a time where you just have to sit back and watch the drunken idiots pee on each other
the old man that you threw the shoe at says "hi" and many rude words...
Holy fucking shit the worst thing for a hangover ever--A FUCKING BOLLYWOOD MOVIE BLARING IN CLASS
Ok. I'll enjoy the quiet (translation: I might be naked, call ahead if you come home tonight)
He wants to take me instead of his girlfriend to the happiest place on earth... By that He meant Vegas. My morals are just loose enough to think this is a good idea
I hate ovaries. They're horrible little sacs of satanic enmity.
That's the most poetic description of female anatomy I've ever heard.
Watching Faye Reagan porn all weekend for St Patty's day. Nothing has ever seemed more appropriate.
You made noises. And kept meowing. I have a twenty minute phone call to prove it.
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