i just woke up to seventeen texts from you saying all the things you would have done for a french fry.
I want to tell you about my weekend in person so I can see your look of judgement and disgust.
i mean i should have known that when i started taking shots with my zumba instructor i was in for a rough night...
He said "I wish they sold 40's in bars".. and a business plan came to mind. Maybe I CAN do something with my degree...
our conversations pretty much only consist of the phrase 'fuck you'. and the sex is fantastic. we've got a great thing going here.
Our neighbors just passed us a blunt from their deck, and are hooking us up.
I just baked them cookies. We're friends now.
Did you like my voicemail? Sounded like I was being murdered, right?
By a pack of ravenous dildos
I know it's not technically the "Mile High Club" but we def need a name for the airport bathroom. Cuz that just happened.
Apparently I made a stripper cry last night when I paid her $10 to go away
he told me it was like eating gods vagina.
When asked if they had been introduced, Damo said "No but I know we've pretty much fucked all the same girls in town"
I'll pretend I don't know she's blind, my morals claimed the back seat in this adventure.
Sexting is killing my work productivity but it's okay because I'm self-employed
um care to explain the stolen chinchila under greg's bed..i'd be fine with it if it wasnt chewing up the stash
Boredom is so much more tolerable when you're stoned off your ass.
Randomize