So I'll spare the details, but I think I discovered I'm lactose intolerant. In my sleep. And you'll be needing new sheets.
Washing the last semen-stained shirt you have really solidifies a breakup. It just got real.
I'm eating tomato paste and drinking banana juice that is expired. Can we please get groceries tonight?
If you didn't damage your room so much from fucking so hard we would have got more of our security deposit back
I resent that
he got everyone in a room, turned off the lights and started throwing knives at the wall. if you got hit, you had to drink...
You remember the guy they called Meat in high school? Well, let's just say my vagina remembers him now.
So maybe I got drunk and hooked up with him in a hot tub? I mean that's nothing to be ashamed of, that kind of takes talent. I'd drown.
I'm not going to say what I did. You're smart enough to figure it out. But I did it. And you owe me 20$
When you put the phrases "just out of shower" and "did you get the picture" that close together, a picture of hamburger helper is not exactly what I expected to pop up.
Lack of response to this text gains you a half hour of freedom before I initiate operations to conclude you are not, in fact, comatose. You requested no mercy.
Your favorite boobs are sending you seasons greetings
An orgasm and grocery shopping is the appropriate start to every Monday.
Why was I lying under a truck last night?
Honestly, the only reason I've been productive today was because I ended up organizing my apartment while searching for my vibratory charger.
I added our drug dealer to the quickbooks software babe, he is listed under vendor's as an expense category... money management is such a bitch...
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