My kitchen smells like failed pina coladas.
I wasn't fucked. I was just drunk, because i was still able to walk into the woods and masterbate.
My dad just knocked on my door and told me that my vibrator was too loud
i think of them as a grilled chicken salad and a fried chicken biscuit. obviously Amy is better for me, but when i'm eating her all i can think about is how much better the blonde must taste.
I've come to realize that after waking up this morning for work no one wins in bar dice.
Found my smoke alarm in a ziploc in my toilet...again
there were staples in my comforter. what kind of sex did we even have?
He passed out naked in my bathroom, then took a shower, then passed out again and then took another shower. Last time I let my brother visit.
I'm pricing out a roll of that wax butcher paper. We fuck too messy and I can't afford to wash them every afternoon.
He sent me a slow motion video of him jerking off...it was so long (the video not his dick) even I felt awkward watching it alone
My stuff that was at your place last night smells like doughnuts. I'm not even mad.
i just saw a man in the grocery, sitting on the floor, eating out of a galon sized tub of macaroni salad. We need to get on his level.
I guess it's part of life. Sometimes your ex boyfriend becomes a drag queen.
She woke up with her hand super glued to the fridge....how the hell am I Supposed to get her off??
We told the cop that we were playing soccer, in flip flops, and 2:30 in the morning. It was raining and i had board shorts on. He bought it, lets go get drunk
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