Dear __, it'd be a lot easier to fuck if you ever responded. So I'm throwing in the white towel, since I no longer know what you want. Sincerely, ___
Last night was def like the makeout party episode of full house
so just incase you wake up on the couch wondering how you got there--you came home at 7am, put ice in a cup--then you proceeded to put the cup in the microwave and melt it because you "wanted water". you then, fell down the stairs while saying "you don't know me" then crawled to the couch.
WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THERE WAS A LOAF OF BANANA BREAD IN THE OVEN BEFORE YOU LEFT FOR A 5 HOUR SHIFT??
The office pool is up to $500 if you take a shit in Frank's desk drawer. Time to change the unpaid internship into a cash cow.
bleeding from the face, sitting in a shopping cart and holding a wad of ripped caution tape. what else would i be doing?
Things I learned last night: 1. Bacardi 151 is a one-way ticket to the toilet, 2. It is possible for a human being to turn into Mount Vesuvius
todays sighting is titled: Bum taking pictures with an invisible camera.
She asked if I wanted to "Mormon Motorboat" her, which I guess is just motor-boating her through her cloths. Turns out I did.
All I want to do is sleep. And If I'm not sleeping, I want to be eating or fucking. I'm pretty sure being pregnant has turned me into a dude.
I know I've wanted to fuck him for the past month, but when you're that hungover, the only chemistry you have is with a pillow and a gallon of water.
I went shopping for a dress that was baptism and bar appropriate.
Good. Go forth, young stallion. Destroy the vaginal region with your tidy crotch.
Last night he told me I was never sexier than when I was cutting pizza. Seriously. Like, he's perfect.
Congrats! Its a fuck boy!
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