Let's just say there is a bloody hand print above my bed and it's not mine. Literally.
i just opened the overnight bag i packed at 2am last night. Apparently all i thought id need was a handful of quarters, mascara and one sock
I drunk madeout with my mom last night. it's guna be an awkward breakfast.
He confessed to putting dry erase marker dots on my vibrator to keep track of when I "electronically cheated" and then passed out.
his mom cheated on his dad so i think he has a weird freudian thing for whores
And I'm supposed to be surprised that you got another concussion?
we've coined the Sunday morning ritual of taking out our puke-filled trash cans as The Trash Of Shame
Leave the bottle at home cause either way I'm not taking another shot. You have no idea how long it took me to compose this text free of grammatical error.
Gold star for you, but I'm on my way and the soco is buckled in next to me. This is happening.
The attempted closet masturbation was unforgivable.
That was the most fucked up I've ever seen him. He had the fucking Canola Oil!
Trying to roll joints on a seadoo in the middle of a lake on a windy night. -Juststonerthings
I couldn't think of the word "bath" so instead I told him I was marinating in soapy water
Nothing says "I'm sorry for shitting in your bed" like an Olive Garden gift card
I wanna riverboat gamble on your vaginal waters. Just sayin
I know! It's like he knows when my vagina wants to misbehave!
Or is it distressingly heterosexual?
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