I introduced my face to asphalt last night. They didn't get along.
Just pulled my keys, cell-phone and a pack of cigarettes out from between my cleavage. This one guy's face was priceless.
Walk-of-shaming home from Brooklyn in a Jesus costume that has "what wouldn't Jesus do" written on the robe.
Oh we're fine. I made her a "sorry I peed on you" omelet.
Oh my god what did I do. My hands are scraped, there are pickles on the floor, my clothes are wet, and I don't remember how I get here. Thank you.
she visited to give me a bj between clients. Social work at its finest.
Oh it's not a problem. Cleaning up the yard and disposing of 75 gallons of Jello is all I've got to look forward to today.
So hungover im counting my own breaths to make sure im not dead. The odds hurt.
What good is being a girl if you can't terrorize boys with pregnancy scares??
I was full on naked standing in his room and I just said "this isn't me" and left.
I just have to point out that once I typed "fa" my phone filled in "fatass"
In my defense, there are at least three ways to die doing that, and I'm still here. America, Fuck Yeah!
Out of ten? A seven. You pulled your shorts down to your ankles, jumped into the pool and announced you were a merman.
He was licking my ear while recommending that I shop at IKEA. I think he's my perfect guy.
I could see the visible disappointment when she saw my penis
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