So I just walked in on one of our neighbors having sex...on our couch.
WHAT?!
He apologized for staining our couch, then asked if he could make me a drink. Pretty sure he was still inside her while we were talking.
It started with Hannah Montana and ended with alcoholism.
I hated hipsters before it was mainstream.
Oh my god. I opened up my microwave and there was a pile of bacon in it. It's like my mother knew I'd be hungover.
So am I a slut for not remembering his name after sex last night or not recognizing him in the cafe today after he told me who he was?
Still can't decide which I'm more disappointed about: the blow job I gave him or the donuts I ate after.
I know I said I wouldn't, but he told me I looked like Mila Kunis. Reasons not to fuck him, go.
The fact that he is from Canada is way more embarrassing than the fact that you met him on match.com
Please come and rip my uterus out before it does it itself
Literally the only clue I have to try and figure out my blackout adventures is a draft on twitter that just says "Mummies alive!"
I threw up a lot of peanut butter last night.
He has a beach house and a Simba tattoo. Our wedding is next Tuesday, hope you're free.
Oh man I knew I took that Molly too soon, talkin to some Scottish people lol but don’t like rollin in pizza restaurants.
Your parents are gone and we haven't fucked in their bed... why?
I expected my Sunday morning walk of shame dressed as a sexy Dorothy would get some scorn, but nobody seems to even care
That’s because it’s 2020. The slutty costume walk of shame is a refreshing reminder of a time when wearing masks and catching communicable diseases was a right of passage, not everyday for the foreseeable future.
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