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Today's productivity will be directly related to my underwear: half-assed.
Hey, remember that time you didn't pull-out? No? Well, I do. He's 7.
Getting kids to bed is like a Kung-Fu movie. Lots of mumble you don't understand, action is outta control & in the end, I always win.
My GPS never responds when I ask it for a hug. :(
Fuck me. Period.
Hey, those white, crusty stains on Mom's t-shirts aren't always snot stains...
You know what's great about being naked?
Absolutely fucking everything.
I miss band camp, mainly for the toys.
'The only thing standing between you and I is double-sided tape.'
My juice box always reads: 'Suck it till it's dry.'
I am definitely going to 'wreck myself, before I check myself' tonight.
I much prefer bat-shit crazy, than, emotionally unresponsive.
Planning a child's Birthday Party may be hazardous to your health and mental stability.
Attending one is even worse.
I find that my left nipple gets harder a lot faster than my right. It's as if she's taunting it, with a 'party for one'.
Of course I stick up for you, on a daily basis, actually. It's not my fault that my middle finger does all the work needed for that cause.
Why does left over Chinese food always make your fridge smell like dank pussy? Nasty.
Rolling a joint for one seems greedy. I need to invest in a pipe. #forreal
Everclear is telling me that my 'Father of Mine' is a douchebag. But I love all of my Daddy's.
You know the days when you want to explode on the World and the only willing participant is your asshole?
Always a friend, always.
Guess what? Being healthy and taking all of my hippie vitamins don't work when drinking. I just threw them up.