My BOSS just pulled out a box of Christmas stuff labeled reefs.
He spent the whole night convincing me I wasn't fat, but after we had sex he said "Oh, I see what you mean"
dude she was so drunk she thought Jim Joyce made the right call
So can you tell me who's underwear is on the cat?
I also referred to her clitorous as her "vagina dot" last night...probably going to be dumped soon.
He looks like he got hit by a weed-eater with chlamydia
I hat to flip my "days since last bad decision" chart back to zero. So...yeah. Sigh.
See, I'm just thinking of how...angular my room is. You probably would have sustained brain damage
That moment when I wear the same thing I did to a motel nooner to my family's Christmas party... Ho Hoety Ho bitches
I'm six Popsicles away from an existential breakdown.
It's hard picking what to wear when you know the plan is sex. Like can't I just wear my robe let's just simplify this.
I was at a crossroads, dude. Like, do I wanna eat chicken McNuggets or talk about my feelings?
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
I woke up with clothes on this morning and I'm pretty sure you had something to do with that. Thank you.
WHY THE FUCK DOES RICKY'S BROTHER GET AN ENTIRE POT OF PASTA FOR BEING SHIRTLESS AND ALL I GET IS ARRESTED?!
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