It started with Hannah Montana and ended with alcoholism.
I walked into his living room and saw him watching the play-offs while eating tomato paste out of the can with a bottle of wine. I'm telling you to stop talking to him. now.
Its as if he has to do the exact opposite of what I tell him. Don't come in my eye, pfshh it's in my eye. Don't come on the cat, pfshh it's on the cat.
It was the worst sex ever. All she did was tap on my balls with her hands like she was in a reggae band.
He told me I had nice tits + they have a great shape. + then proceeded to flatten my boob + show me what the gross tits he's seen look like.
you are not perverted enough for this relationship to work out.
Everyone is slow dancing to Aerosmith. I am serenading a slice of pizza.
I did the crab walk everywhere because I was drunk enough that it was easier than standing up.
My bed is full of blood and feathers
We found you wrapped up in a tarp in the garage the next morning, thats how real shit got.
stoners and superglue do NOT mix
I told him the only reason I'd sleep with him is if we have a threesome because I'll need moral support
idk man, I was fucked up and eating fried rice at the grocery store, tried to wave at her but she just looked concerned at me.
I woke up hugging my purse and I found a business card in my underwear. How?
And for the record I didn't even have sex last night. I threw up in his toilet and slept in his bed until noon
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