So I have $4.22 in my bank account, just wrote a check for a tooth brush from quikmart, and bought a 25 cent condom from the bathroom. i don't know whats more sad, my bank account or the fact that i'm entrusting my entire future to a condom machine that was probably last filled in 1970
I jacked off with the cucumber and then made that fatass a salad.
What's the point in getting all dressed up and going when i'm just gonna throw up on myself by midnight?
Rent Disney Oceans. Smoke a bowl. Fast forward to the seal section. Then call me.
I just headbutted my cat because he was trying to eat my bacon.
and now there are teeth marks on my dick.
What was she thinking? I'm not in the business of charity fucks anymore.
He tried to convince me that it wasn't really that small and all he had to do was pull back the groin fat. It was still small.
I was so drunk that I passed out before I could do or say anything I'd regret. My low alcohol tolerance is like a guardian angel.
His encouragement of my recreational drug use is the backbone of our nonrelationship. That, and rough animal sex and loud music.
Im eating leftover Easter ham in a bubble bath. What has my life come to?
Shit is getting real. I just adjusted my search radius for my dating profile to ANY FUCKING WHERE
This is why you have to watch more Zombie movies- to prepare for End Times...
Update on my sex life: my calves are sore from masturbating too much. It's a thing. Look it up.
I did not shave my legs to sit at home and diddle myself. He better wake the fuck up and put the fear of god in me!
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