If I see one more duchette wearing Ed Hardy, but not actually having a real tattoo. I swear Im gonna shank a bitch.
I never thought that I'd ever use the phrase "and the resulting ice cream explosion" seriously at work...
I'm not sure if what i'm hearing downstairs is sex or not, but if it is, it sounds like there's a dog involved...i'm mildly concerned.
Apparently Sundays are the worst days for your friends to get their head split open and need stitches...there's only 1 doctor on duty
someone left their shoes, a resume, and a pizza in the shower... i am actually speechless
I just noticed she took the "toys" too. That's how you know when it's really over.
If one more "stranger" walks up to me at the bar and asks how I have been, I am going to rehab.
she blew me in the men's room in the restaurant. it was a french bistro, so it was okay
I've done nothing but whore my gay ex bf out for the past 48 hours. It's getting weird.
The stoned girl at the dining hall just handed me a single chicken wing and insisted that she's "unable to procure more rations"
I got written up at work for smelling like sex and vodka. Still not sure how they put that into professional terms.
I hope it's the birth control, otherwise I'm dying
When I said tequila slammers would be the death of me, I didn't intend it to be today. Oh god.
I wanted to make out with that blonde just so I could deck her boyfriend and make things interesting.
At least that would be something.
He fucked me while I was smoking his blunt. His apartment was trashed and he drives a van that looks like it’s been hit by a train but still 10/10 would fuck again.
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