So, I woke up to an empty bottle of scotch and a dead car. The last thing I remember are the strippers being mad at me. Awesome night.
Feels good to be wearing underwear again though...
I don't think the car's salesman understands that I am about to vomit on him.
He just climbed off me and used my hairspray to fix his hair. If he hadn't just gone down on me I would think he's gay.
I masterbate to the thought of you. You totally aren't just a booty call.
I just baptized the girl next to me. LONG LIVE THE CHURCH OF VODKA
I am broke enough to accept it. If I get poisoned, you can have my shoes
apparently putting your t-shirt on your head with a bottle of captain and telling girls your the pirate king of tallahassee doesn't work
What? My family got wasted on patron and I threw up on my pants and said it was gravy. Hot mess.
Oh I was gonna ask you the same thing...? It's official ask anyone to see your husbands dick day.
And I made some girl take out the trash, load and unload the dishwasher, swifter, and clean the counters. So don't act like I don't do anything.
He says it takes a lot to subdue the urge to just bury his face in my vagina. Of course, I have absolutely no problem with this.
so i just realized the reason you didn't answer my call last night is because the remote isn't a phone.
Should I be worried if two ants just crawled out of my purse?
Yes!
Well. Another one of my exes came out of the closet.
She left a cookie cake on my porch, and the frosting reads "I'm sorry". She left me an I'm-sorry-for-punching-you-in-the-face cake.
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