the "happy anniversary" cake for my mom and dad is about to turn into the "yeah, that's a hickey, welcome back from italy" cake.
its 10 pm and i am cleaning vomit off the ceiling. i am nowhere near drunk enough for this to be funny.
she called me a fuckfaceshitdick. not that's creative. it sounds like a crayola crayon, preferrably an orange-brown shade.
We need to stop sleeping with people based on which NFL team they like.
Chapter 6 - how to lose your underwear in chicago
Hey, hey, hey, hey. This is a hurriCAN.
She gets me. First thing she said this morning "I'll buy breakfast if you can tell me my name."
Our sex has gotten so much better since we broke up.
After the Patriots lost I punched him in the face. But I still feel like that isn't a good reason to dump me.
I'm just saying, I walked in on you blowing a burrito. I now understand how obsessed you are with Taco Bell. And how long it's been since you've got some.
Your level of morning after guilt is too much right now. Do less.
I made a bong out of my deodorant today. Did you?
Do you know this guy sitting in front of us? Asking for my vagina.
Can we be gay Bert and Ernie for Halloween?
All I wanted to do was come home from work and masturbate for national sex day... I sliced my the tip of finger giving myself a pedicure so I can’t even do that #singlelife
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