Decided to write a book called "girls don't poop and other myths I wish I still believed in"
I just found out why they dont make table-dance tables out of glass.
You passed out in the bathroom with the door locked. Had to take a shit in your litter box. Don't worry, your cat buried it for me.
Then she yelled something like "YOU HAVE SO MANY FORKS!" before collapsing on the floor
Which is scary since we both think with our vaginas
she gave me a blowjob during our lunchbreak and expected me not to tell people
You were force feeding yourself jello and you kept repeating, "I will not surrender"
This day sucks. I just wanna play ostrich and bury my head in your boobs.
You asked me to text you at 11 and remind you that he's 33. It's 11:20. He's 33.
you're too late. he has eggnog and whiskey and all seven seasons of buffy. I shan't be coming home tonight
So his 25th anniversary post of love to his wife was almost verbatim what he said to me last week. Does that mean I win or lose?
I could see myself being this awkward weirdo drunk girl that patted strangers and danced terribly but was powerless to stop it
i feel like i shouldn't just had to send a text that said "no i will not eat your ass"
Its official. The summoning powers of my vagina are unmatched by anything in this world
The best part about theater chicks is nothing is too cliche or out of line. I just fucked her Braveheart style in my entry way while saying goodbye.
Just once, can I please come back to a room that doesn't smell like beer and cum?
Randomize
