dear santa what can i do with your candy cane?
there's paper in my vomit.
pedialite and red bull = repair kit
we'll hang out once this whole, "your friends are robbers and drug addicts" thing blows over with my parents.
four days late. damn you, makeup sex. you win again.
this morning i woke up under the kitchen table. i went to my room and there was an inflatable whale in my bed with a banana duct taped to where its penis should be. there were trails of cheez-its around my apartment and i found $67 in the crotch of my underwear. im guessing i had a very happy birthday.
Baffled as to how I'm gonna get 150lbs of sand out of my basement.
Contrary to what peaches says, you can't fuck the pain away. Full story later. Have a good morning, buddy.
Clusterfucked is a frowned upon word in work related emails
I'm wearing red that night.
Noted, what shade?
Whore.
i would rather have had this happen at a time when i wasnt tripping out on shrooms
We need to go back to the barter system so I can sell my body and just be done with it.
He thinks he's a sex addict. Just. My. Type.
ALso, saw an adorable man walking an adorable dog with his adorable kid.
And yes, that last sentence is biased because my ovaries started screaming
What's the standard Christmas present for six months of booty calls?
Mobile recharge?
Randomize
