I just tried to put my feet in my slippers and found cans of beer in them. Christmas in fucking july.
the only difference between me and a prostitute was that i complained a lot more.
there needs to be a "man fax report". like car fax. type in the guys name and bday and up pops all the bad shit he's ever done.
I can't even go pee because I'm making sure he doesn't run off somewhere naked.
Whatever you gave me is making me lactate
If this week is any indication of my life here I've got to get out ASAP. My liver can't hack it.
I think I need to donate blood to see if I have Hepatitis. Again.
Ugh contemplating vodka and chocolate protein powder as this Capri sun and vodka isn't really cutting it
We were coming but I found wine on my way out the door.
I just spent 20 minutes in a Subway trying to take a candid photo of the doppleganger of the guy I lost my virginity to instead of eating. That's all the evidence I need that my life is on track.
I spent the whole ride asking the cabbie if people ever have sex back there, and if he wanted me to make that number one higher.
She got engaged last night. I don't think you should ask her out man.
Just woke up to Siri reminding me that i need to kill the giant orange spider in my room, because it's sorcery and witchcraft is sacrilegious. Did you give me LSD again!?!??!
He made a group chat with him, his wife, & I. Is this really life!??
He also sent me nipple clamps because romance is NOT dead
Randomize
