saturday- my day is open, my legs are not. you in?
well apparently not.
You know its bad when you can over hear the planned parenthood nurses talking shit behind your back... they've seen everything
I don't think a check that has "thx for the drugs" on the note is really gonna fly.
Everything smells like beer. Everything. But I cant drag myself out of bed to take a shower. So beer it is.
Halfway through he got an idea for a short story so he wrote it in magic marker on my boobs. Yeah, he's a keeper.
You tired to make us "vodka tacos". Which was just you dipping pitas in vodka.
Any good?
Well. FUCK YA. But that's beside the point
We need a fire pit. Meat. And a keg.I mean like a cow we just carve from. And cook it. We can use the milk from the udder to make White Russians
There is a midget driving a powered tricycle around town. I am not drunk, stoned, or lying.
No. Nooooo. No way. She looked like Amanda Bynes. The recent one not the one from All That.
My fridge is empty and all of my food is in the bathtub. Just.. Why?
So we hooked up and then instead of texting me, he endorsed me on LinkedIn for Microsoft Word a few days later
Im covered in coffee vomit and urine and none of which are mine
There's literally not a single picture of him with a shirt on. I can't talk to him without dislocating my eye balls.
I was covered in mud from my knees down, I smelt like the inside of a port-a-potty and only had mascara on one eye. . . so you know your usual Sunday brunch.
Everything isn’t always sunshine & rainbows. Sometimes there’s tequila.
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