I puked in a mailbox on the way back from your house.
I just found glass in my funny face pancakes, there's nothing funny about that.
part of me always dies a little when i go to the "2 women seeking 1 man" section in craigslist's casual encounters to find nothing there. it's tragic
I discovered the grieving process is shock, denial, anger...and then something about drinking until you puke on yourself
STOP CALLING ME LADY CHLAMYDIA
Oh god I may vomit into the teacup of debauchery.
I think the multiple Sunday morning sirens outside my window are a plot by the cops to get back at me for the shit we pulled last night. Or I should move to a better area.
...Saturday night. Get your dick ready. We are going to go nuts. I want to have sex fucking everywhere.
I shit you not, me and my date were in that bar and within a 10 minute window, 4 ex gf's entered. Every one clocked me and gave me evils. I swear they're conspiring.
You know, I've never slept in a rug with anyone before you
I need someone to play with my boobs. Even platonically. I just need a good groping
Apparently I took a selfie with fried chicken at 2 am....I'm still trying to figure out where I got the chicken. I thought I was making mac & cheese.
His new girl is probably classy and boring. I bet she doesn't feed him sour patch kids while she wiggles his weiner.
Like when your most normal sex dream is you being a prostitute, you know it's been one long ass dry spell.
She called a 10 year old handsome and we gave her a look that was equal parts confused and “what the hell is wrong with you”
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