Dude. She told me she felt bad for not giving me more blojobs. HOW COULD THAT HAVE GONE BETTER?
But then he started to talk about his wedding he wants and I quote " and yes parts will be choreographed"
This is the way my sobriety ends: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
There is a mosh pit in our kitchen. You better hurry.
There was a fucking SNAKE in the urinal. WHAT THE FUCK
I had to help you off the toilet floor because you couldn't get up, then you threw your drink on the floor and just said "oh dear" really calmly.
In this town being related to a brewing family or the owner of a sports team is like being royalty. It's like hooking up with the queen's nephew or something.
He actually just looked up and said I'm gonna cum in my pants. and he did. no shame.
She curled up in the corner, screamed "THE BLANKET IS SO WARM" and promptly passed out with her face in the dogbed. No one bothered to reposition her.
I just remembered that we had an in-depth conversation about how it was too stressful to wear pants.
Apparently, acid is a good substitute for cash if you don't have any! Who knew?
i am rolling on molly so fucking hard i want to do 300 cartwheels
I feel bad for her. If you sacrifice and have a chubby husband I feel that you assume he's not going to cheat on you....
He brought over a bottle of tequila and a box of donuts with the Plan B, so I guess you could say things are getting pretty serious.
So now I'm just going to brush my teeth, get high, and go to sleep. Like an adult
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