I mean, he's dancing back and forth between pathetically sad and massively fucking creepy.
All I remember is drinking vodka out of tupperware.
Valium party in the driveway. Attendance: 1. Don't make me do this alone.
I can't be drunk. Sober yes. Drunk no. Spoonfuls
Nope. Can't afford girlfriends. Still looking for the 25 year old bisexual tripled who owns a brewery or a casino.. the search continues....
Well, I looked over and you and him were each making out with a fireman. And then you switched. And you probably spent an hour like that.
This spray tan I used isn't working out. I spent an hour exfoliating and rubbing the damn stuff in with rubber gloves. I wanted the alluring, sun-kissed, sexy look. I've achieved smelling like burnt popcorn and the cats won't stop licking me. I'm a salt lick for cats.
Life gets in the way of sexy Saturday sometimes
I'm going home because your Crackraptor step-brother tried getting his nasty meat hawks in my pants last night.
Hit on in the middle of a Wal-Mart McDonald's by a really awkward nerd. There is not enough nope in the world.
I reek of vagina.. My cab driver commented.
I found a 9 minute video on my phone of you singing into an eggplant.
I know he's only a bandaid for my emotional disrepair, but he can stick me anytime!!
Why is there a whip in the kitchen?
Chili is not acceptable fuck buddy food.
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