So drunk can't even tell it's my own house. WOaoOw.
Writing apology letters and leaving them on peoples doors for your actions is NOT what I want to be doing at 6am.
One of my coworkers just invited me to a wet t-shirt contest this weekend in honor of her son's 21st Birthday.
Hurricane Sex Time is the only thing iv said since it started.
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Dude Eric's high and buying everyone taquitos. How much room do we have in the freezer?
During breaking dawn, he leaned over and asked me why she would have to worry about her period since she essentially just married a walking super-absorbant tampon... It was the best way to ruin those movies for me.
Let's not refer to him as Dustin. That makes him seek like a real person, not just a dick I would like to experience.
whoa! who said he's my boyfriend?
Oops. Sorry. That guy you keep accidentally running into in public. And at home. And with your vagina.
She's like the Oprah of therapy. AND YOU GET A STRAITJACKET. AND YOU GET A STRAITJACKET. WITH A PADDED ROOOOM
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Honestly I was sitting in managerial accounting thinking "I really need to get my shit together and stop drinking so much wine." But when you asked I realized... it's wine. It's always a yes.
Yup, found the vomit in the side compartment. My bad.
Just got referred to as "the girl from Tuesday night" at the Taco Bell drive thru...what happened on my birthday?!
He said he's in to distance fucking. I thought he just mean long durations. We fucked on a towel all the way down his tile hallway accross his kitchen and into the living room
And thanks for putting me in that safety position on the bathroom floor while I was spooning the toilet
So, do I need to remind you to keep it classy tonight?
No, because if you have to be reminded it isn't classy.
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