Dear tim. Christina farted and it smells like kid roses.
dear vagina, thank you for making it so goddamn hard to get pregnant. i love you.
a lot of self evaluation comes after you have to clean up a trashcan of your own vomit and condoms
I just found blacked-out interviews on my voice recorder. Go journalism.
You told me to pour the Gatorade on you "like Flashdance"
1. Are there men involved 2. Is there food involved 3. Do I have to put pants on 4. Do I have to leave this bed
Where the royal fuck are you??
The depths of vodka hell.
I have a strict rule of what enters my vajay. It's either sparkly, or human. Anything else and I draw the line. Standards.
Just told my boss I wasn't coming in to work because of a serious case of blue balls. Totally made having them worth it.
that almost beats the chick I saw smoking a joint while uni-cycling past my house at 4am. Almost.
the fact that you trapped hornets in a mailing tube to put in his mailbox does not surprise me sadly.
We were making out and truffle butter was playing in the background. I stopped mid make out session and said, "I'm really sorry but I have to rap Nicki's part."
He was cute in a Sketchy-trying-to-sell-you-a-vaccum-at-9-at-night kinda way.
If there's one thing I think I could really excel it, it's curating a midlife crisis
He’s only in town today and our afternoon sex sesh kept getting interrupted by the neighbor’s kid yelling and screaming in the pool
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