i really thought "pants-shitting drunk" was an unreachable level until last night
idk how it happened. she made a very smooth transition from crying to blowing me
I was crying hysterically and you wouldn't stop petting my ear and shushing me every time I tried to say something.
There was a time I was reining queen of Sunday funday... And at that same time I also weighed 20 pounds more, had the morale of a spearmint rhino stripper, and woke up most mornings asking more questions than fucking Barbara Walters. I think I just wrote my own epitaph.
Because she seems like the type to give it up for a box of fruit rollups.
The squirrels are partying on my roof again. Now they're just rubbing it in that I'm home alone on a Saturday night and they're having orgies.
I woke up with a massive hangover and realized I still had an entire bottle of tequila in my car...so yeah, working on tomorrow's hangover.
Let's have sex in an apple orchard
I'm doing an Uber ride of shame in a red, white and blue bikini top and America shorts. Good for me.
He texted his hospitalized grandma while inside me, so really a perfect gentleman.
It's going to turn into you and me throwing down in a devastating lip-synch battle while everyone else stands around awkwardly.
You do realize he's just an extension of his penis, right?
bitch, i have a flask. i've got things under control.
god. marry me.
What the fuck dude? Now it's a "who is this?" convo going back and forth. Like... helllloooo you just sent me a picture of your penis! I'm entitled to ask who the fuck it is. I can't verify an identity by a body part.
I know you’re not my dad, but you’re someone’s dad. You’re also like a second dad to me as well. And one who I send nudes to as well. Happy Father’s Day
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