So, how was the dinner
Just like the ex wife, cold, fatty, and expensive.
There needs to be a term for a female version of a rusty trombone
guy at the corner shop gets out a bottle of tequilla and a pack of malboro light whenever he sees me through the door. makes me feel loved and cared for
You planned my entire going away party sitting in the bath tub cradling a bottle of Cuervo. You promised me fire jugglers. And a pinata.
Sorry my moustache came off because I was face first in a layered bucket full of jello shots.
so why was i the only one who woke up with ham stuck to my ass?
No worries. It'll grow back. I mean, hey, my eyebrows grew back after he shaved them off. So it's all good.
He had a shameless baby voice when he was talking to my dog. There's no way I'm making it through the night with my clothes on.
There was a reason God said "Let there be titties" on the Fifth Day.
DAMMIT. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY IS GONNA GET STUCK IN MY HEAD AGAIN. FUCK YOU OLYMPICS.
I put chex mix in your purse for when you get hungry while doing your walk of shame tomorrow!
Is it bad that I feel proud to be the first one to puke in the apartment? And I did it in style?
You straight up painted the counter with steak, tequila and beer. You owe me a knew toothbrush.
Call me and get me out of this conversation NOW. My coworker is talking to me about her birds having sex again...
the last thing I remember is taking a pull of ever clear and chasing it with vodka
He sends me the same inspirational quote quotos that my grandma does. I no longer want to tap that.
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