you sent me 45 texts saying "meow?"
did i?
she looked me in the eyes and called me a poet because i was singing lady gaga, then she fell over...
I'm not going to fuck him in his Honda Fit. That's gay.
Can we please not be like these pathetic people in their thirties who only get drunk when they go see Sherrill Crow?
What's the second line of that rhyme that starts "Vicodin before scotch...?"
yep. it's official. for $40 they will let you lick the stripper pole.
True as that may be, are you coming to the birth of my imaginary child or not?
I've been alternating between telling people I was mauled by a bear or hit by a car to explain the massive unexplainable bruise on my leg. Slightly more worried now that the car idea is believable.
How do I explain the handcuffs and tanning goggles on our living room floor? There's rope too. The cats love the rope.
he ate me out like 4 times and told me that my vagina "was too much fun".
I just had a mental image of us riding a tractor through hell with one of those big guns mounted on top of it shooting at everyone while the indiana jones music plays.
Dude, I traded weed for crunch berries. Happy Thursday.
I can still be you friend and be there for you. And sometimes get drunk and fuck you.
The Dick I got last night was so phenomenal that I had to take a fucking personal day today.
The strippers who live across the street set up a decently professional stage on their front balcony and a banner for a go fund me... I think we're gonna get a show.
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