I just spent the last hour reading customer reviews on amazon.com for the book "it hurts when I poop." Send help.
I gave him head and we watched Fashion Police. somehow it wasn't awkard.
I've already reverted to sweat pants. And lonely drinking.
It felt as i were a pad of butter melting onto a piece of toast.
After being his wingman last night, I've decided I will never talk about becoming a lesbian ever again. Picking up chicks is way too hard.
Drinking Hot Toddies on the Porch and blasting bob dylans "hurricane" bring it on sandy!
There two guys dressed as FEMA workers with jump-suits that say "Post-Disaster Breast Examination Division"
Also. After puking outside of the bar last night, some guy (who saw me puking) said I looked like Jennifer Lawrence, called me J Law, got my number and is now texting me. Who knew puking and rallying would do me any good
Naked snow angels was a very bad idea. My vag is now frozen shut.
I was a plus one at an intervention for a person I didn't know.
Next guy I fuck must be a cowboy
Our drunk hook up was interrupted by the delivery guy. When he came back to my room we ate the gyros and went back to sex like we didn't take a lunch break.
Good news my life of crime finally paid off
I didn't realize how much I relied on you for a reason to drink on tuesday
Man, it's really obvious that I was either handcuffed or tied up last night. Either way, not something you'd want coworkers knowing.
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