Why do you proceed to call me "Queen La Queefah?"
I'm not really sure how I got home, but judging by this headache, i'm assuming it involved bourbon.
the igloo is complete. bring your weed and the hat with the floppy ears
All I really need to know is how to say "where is the bathroom" and "I don't take it in the butt anymore". I think that will suffice.
He asked if I smoke and I said "only fools like you on the basketball court!" Then I started crying. I think I'm about to have my period.
If you've ever wanted to get filthy in a Catholic church before 2 on a Wednesday, I might be your guy.
Are you still feeling it? I'm in the bathtub. The water doesn't work but it's okay because I'm wearing pants.
Strip clubs just aren't as fun when a man tries to drunkenly grind on you.
I asked her why she was drunkenly masturbating to Iron Man and all she replied was "Robert Downey Jr". As far as excuses go, that seemed pretty legit.
We smoked bowls and watched Cops for what seemed like hours. And yet I know I'll go back.
She kept calling herself DJ McDonalds and said she wanted to make some Egg McMusic.
If I could run through a field of Reece's and Oreos, dive off a milkfall into a bowl of cereal. My Life would complete.
My memory of last night is a delicious blur of tits, ass, and alcohol.
if he ever tells me he loves me when we are sober, i am a goner. just fyi.
the bastard is cheating on me with some sleazy barista from Starbucks
That’s his wife they’re back together
You say potato, I say sleazy barista
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