I told her for every minute she spent down there, I would donate a dollar to the Haiti relief fund... totally worked
Only your vagina holds the key to what happened last night.
What's the kids name that was drinking stale beer and redbull out of the blender?
So it turns out rose was the bear hunting girl. Fuck my life
None of those words made sense together.
You know it was a good weekend when; you leave a bi-lingual letter of apology on top of a stack of cash for hotel housekeeping.
From russia with love. But also with chlamydia.
You stole my camera, took a picture of yourself and said "that's beautiful, just as beautiful as our waitress".
You rolled around on the floor, yelled about being a "half-zombie" and bit that guy on the leg who was hitting on me.
Like an undercooked grilled cheese that got cold again. But hairy.
And there goes my desire for sandwiches. Forever.
You know you went through something intense when you actuallu applaud yourself for not shitting your pants
Whatever, you're gonna have to break it to mom that the reason I was so drunk at Christmas dinner is because she wouldn't stop asking me why I don't have a boyfriend
So, no matter what happens today, hold on to this. At least you're not naked under your ex husband's trench coat being stopped by the police who also work with your ex husband. Long story. Actually, not a long story. That's it.
Yesterday we were fuck buddies and today I'm meeting his mom. That escalated quickly.
For 15 minutes straight, he literally did every accent there was, from Russian to Bostonian. The issue: no one could determine whether he was sober, wasted, or anywhere in between
We’ve got a propane heater on our back porch if you want to come over and eat a McRib in peace
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