Stop bringing these fucking whores home with you. If I have to fight over the remote with a bleach blonde idiot wanting to watch the hills reruns one more time I'm pissing in your shampoo.
You did not just play the dead husband card again.
I'm hiding behind a bush in mens clothing next to a ducks crossing sign. There are joggers. Please hurry.
This is worse than the time I broke into Subway to steal bread.
He told me I took off my shirt, asked for the latino thunder and jumped on him. I want to question this but it sounds too much like me.
You walked in on me taking a shit and told me to hit the bong
I'm in the power napping at parties stage of my life
Jesus, I just want to drink. Also simultaneously punch things and rub my vagina on them.
I'm pretty sure there a million tiny ninjas in my uterus poking me with sticks.
I'm sitting on your porch drinking wine from the bottle. Just so your new neighbors know what kind of people are in the neighborhood
My puke in the shower morning just turned into a puke in the restroom at work afternoon. I'm the human embodiment of dumpster fire.
I'm crying during the second episode of Golden Girls that's how high I am.
If I could steal your goatee and hide it under my bed to keep your from wearing it, I would.
I always knew I would be boring and die in an Uber.
He was so drunk last night. He woke up out of a dead sleep at 330am, walked over to the dresser, opened his middle drawer and proceeded to pee. When I woke up and asked him Wtf he was doing, he told me it was fake pee and blamed it on the cat...we don't have a cat
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