fuck your aforementioned shoe
Omg. The strippers are having a batman vs spiderman showdown. Both on stage. Genius.
You were running around with scissors offering people free haircuts.
I am solely responsible for the birth of their child. I mean, I did push them into the room and hold the door shut yelling "punch that kitty!". It has to be a sign.
The good news is I managed to avoid the three cop car looking for me. The bad news is I no longer have shoes.
I ate a pepperoni off of someone's floor last night. We need to talk.
She was humming during sex. After I asked her why, she said it was her sex theme music
but im not going to tell the owner of the penis of my dreams how to wear his hair.
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
I don't know, I think having hemorrhoids shows character. You have to be trying pretty hard to get them.
I air guitared a man's prosthetic leg on the bar to Bruce Springsteen. That's how it's going
He's like a hurricane
a drunk, sexist, hurricane
Why did I wake up next to the fire pit? And who wrapped me up like a burrito?
Jägerbombs. Thank Sara.
I text the word "masturbation" so much, all it only takes my iPhone to auto-spell it is for me to type "mas".
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