Mars, I'm going to name my child horatio mars. He will hate me till he gets high. Then he'll understand
I don't know what you're doing, but there's a dragon on my street.
She finally woke up and said, "Me- nothing, potato peeler- 1." And rolled back over.
You walked in with a firecracker and a doughnut then demonstrated what a lazy job he did fucking you
I just found a babydoll head in my sink where we ripped it off and did shots out of it.
Precisely. She's an awesome drinking companion; yet, not so awesome mother-in-law material.
Also got home. Still stoned. Mom was up. We made a pizza and were writing a children's book. Sleep good.
So there I was praying he didn't go limp again, choking on a long, long gray ball hair. This is my Saturday night. This. Is. My. Life.
On the 3rd day, she mixed sangria and orange juice and saw that it was good.
Of course it may just be the context. A dish of dog food would look lovely next to your breasts.
Being sober is boring. Tomorrow I'm def bringing wine and my vibrator to work. Might even booty call that hot guy on floor 5. Making the last week at this job legendary.
we all thought you were asleep. he found you an hour later sitting outside in the snow lighting a bowl, singing the CatDog theme song, and hugging a box a Franzia.
So woke up naked and found my clothes from last night in my kitchen with a half eaten quesadilla
You followed me up the stairs while i was throwing up yelling "projectile! projectile! projectile!"
I bet he’d be surprised by the epic blow job he’d get if he stopped talking about his wife long enough for me to get in the mood
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