I would blow Magic Johnson for a pack of lucky strikes right now. Post-hiv.
How was the bike ride?
Nope. High in the basement. Fruit cups.
One of my preschool students told me today that it's not pollution that makes the water in lakes unclean. It's the hobos. I was absolutely speechless. And just so proud.
They're here. One showed up as a slutty Crayola, and I think the other came as The Fat Friend.
Beware of calls from Dad. I just had a longer than I would care to admit convo about the ididarod. Apparently it starts tomorrow.
I just had a full choir singing the phrase pudding cup in my head. Too. Stoned.
Whoever put the rooster in the elevator is my fucking hero. Who even thinks of that shit?
Who needs sounds of the ocean? I just fall asleep to whatever chubby he is banging next door.
It was rough. I have dried puke in my hair and I don't know if it's mine or from the girl I met on the ground waiting for a cab.
You're 34. You can't make guys wait till the third date anymore. Step it up!
I feel like I'm in a development meeting for a Lifetime original movie.
I just want someone to put their head on my boobs and laugh at my jokes ....
There are far too many naked dudes in your apartment, and they aren't even watching porn. I mean seriously, they've got the Lion King on.
Its really hard to take a shit when the dog wont stop trying to crawl into your lap
he would NOT stop making out with my stomach! creeeeeepy
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