Bad news is im a slut again. Good news is its with people ive been a slut with before.
My entire life is one complicated drinking game
Convinced the domino's pizza delivery person to go to shaws and buy me a bottle of wild turkey. For america.
I am drunk. Riding an elevator. You can smell the beer. Doctor on with me just smiling at me... He agrees, fuck cancer.
I was changing in front of my window and my neighbor text me saying, "nice pubes."
I think I reached some stage of aging, have a sore/injured shoulder from sex, next up carpal tunnel from sexting.
I've noticed we have slowly begun to phase the "B" out of our Bromance.
I'm in too deep with Breaking Bad. I realized I've altered my Tinder likes to people that either look like Jesse or work in a school's Science department.
You aren't truly friends with someone until you play drinking games via text at 8:30 in the morning.
I got his number because he was "impressed with how much I could handle"...I was chasing shots with Olive Garden breadsticks...
You told his date she had the tits to be a stripper and the personality to be the pole. Of course he's pissed off.
Please tell me im imagining that i claimed that i was king of the ducks.
I think every girl deserves a pregnancy scare. Because then it just feels like such a priviledge to be bleeding out of the vagina.
I legit just did a jig towards my box of tampons.
you bounced a quarter off my butt and it came back hitting you in the eye. karma, bitch.
Coworker just walked in thirty minutes late reeking like weed and clutching a handful of scratch-off tickets. Also, there’s still a stripper pole in my office. Happy Wednesday!
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