Reason #437 to hate Louisiana: Just went to the public bathroom at work. It was so humid the toilet seat was damp and sticky. Either it's the humidity or I sat in somebody's yesterday piss. I choose to believe the humidity.
You need Jesus. Or a midol and a snickers. Whichever.
I remember pointing out how smooth my legs were to try to direct his attention away from my vagina.
Need you on the dancefloor. Hungry and lonely.
I lied. Can't workout today. Only exercises I'm currently capable of doing are breathing ones to keep last night's drinks ending up all over the classroom.
He fell backwards into a full bathtub but didn't spill a single drop of the beer in his hand. What a pro.
Also I've been at work for an hour and I've already been "honey"d "babe"d and "beautiful"d by three separate men. Apparently hungover with yesterdays make up looks good on me.
I just wanted to check in on you and you replied with a selfie with your Coney Island waiter and the caption "after his shift we're dropping acid together"
This is seriously fucking awkward. My favorite sex scene just started and my dad's still here. He offered me Cheetos.
Put a Santa hat on my junk. He's wants to be festive too.
DONT TELL ME I CANT HAVE AN ENTIRE BOTTLE OF VODKA AT DINNER. IM AN ADULT. I PAY BILLS.
So woke up naked and found my clothes from last night in my kitchen with a half eaten quesadilla
She flashed us last time and pissed all over the floor this time. I'm scared to invite her back.
I don't get a "my roommate is fucking you" discount?!
I know you're here! I can hear your phoneeeee. Wake up and do illegal things with me.
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