My patience ran out after you started clapping at the strippers everytime they took off a piece of clothing.
Just had to masturbate in the bathroom because mom changed my room into a "knitting" room. I hate coming home.
Also adulthood=replacing meals with bourbon. And not getting your hair caught in a fan.
i was really disappointed no one would drink beer from our cleavage last night except for us
Which one of you fuckers thought itd be funny to see if the kitchen table can float.
You take a step back sometimes and are like "when was the last time I was sober?" or "wow I need to stop putting everything in my vagina"
Is this an intervention?
I think my body is literally trying to get me to reproduce. "fuck someone! Anyone!" - my body
I have no idea. But I feel like I could climb a mountain and then have sex on it.
I'm going to get old and fat one day... probably pretty soon and I'm not going to have any pictures to show to my cats of what I once looked like.
I might have been the first person in 2015 to throw up on a yellow cab before climbing in it.
Also, do you have any insight as to WHY I have a note saved from the 17th of June that reads *clears throat*, "you got that swanky blues libido"
So my plane's delayed and some guy is talking to "sparkles" he just told her to never again sell drinks from her cleavage. This is why I don't go home
I was sitting down, taking a piss with a boner, her cat walked into the bathroom and walked up to my legs, I sneezed and pissed all over her cat through between the toilet seat and bowl, it ran off screeching. She thought I peed on her cat on purpose. Kicked me out
I flashed my boobs, shit my pants, and kissed the wrong twin. I'm on a roll you don't want in on.
After we finish having sex, he smokes an honest to God pipe. It's like fucking a big, sexy Sherlock Holmes...
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