By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
this will be a night to untag.
I was told to ask you about memoirs of a geisha.
Was this before, or after you took my brand new bag of shredded cheese, and "Made it rain"?
you asked the janitor if you could ride his floor cleaner.
I mean how do you tell a nurse in the ER that you dislocated your knee giving a blowjob to your boyfriend.
Very innocently.
He tried to use a signal flare to light the bong
And?
He melted the stem
you tried to fill your inhaler with vodka
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
Is it a bad thing that I've made out with everybody I work with?
No seriously, I don't care if you just sucked God's dick. I have had a better Fat Tuesday than you
Powdered alcohol is a real thing now. Move over crystal light... Water bottles rejoice!!
Come on kid, foreplay is elementary stuff. It's a vagina, not a sphinx.
I hear my roommate snoring and I feel bad for his girlfriend but then I hear them having sex and I guess it all works out in the end.
Complete and utter failure. 100% unsalvageable. I have not failed so hard at a culinary endeavor in YEARS. MY HONOR IS IMPUGNED I HAVE SHAMED MY HOUSE
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