He called me "the Joe Montana of blowies." Not sure if that is an accomplishment or an insult, but going off of the amount of condensation on the windows of my car, I'm gonna just do a little touchdown dance and pass out.
the people next to us in line are buying a 12 pack and a snuggie
you kept lying down on the floor at the bar just to prove you could get back up
at least the cop wrote "happy birthday" on the ticket.
Hey, I can't find my bed frame. Do you know who took it?
Ps. I feel like I may pee myself this weekend. Either drunkenly or out of excitement. Toss up
I've already reverted to sweat pants. And lonely drinking.
Hey do you know who I showed my dick to at the bar last night?
So my mind was like YOU ARE TOTALLY GONNA MAKE IT TO CLASS TODAY but then my body was all LOL NO YOU AIN'T.
What if there is no right person? Maybe it's just the right cat. Or the right 12 cats.
If I had a vagina, my apartment would have been the Atlantic
If you're not my stylist, having sex with me, or agreeing to have sex with me don't fucking touch my hair.
His sister gave me the "if you hurt him I will break your neck" talk. I didn't know how to tell her we're not a couple.
I don't wanna see it, I don't wanna touch it, I just want it in me.
He just kept going down on me. And he was all like, do you mind? No motha fucka, who would? All of his ex's, apparently. Whatever, he's a gem and I'm keeping him.
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