I farted on Jack's balls last night. He got pissed and walked away cause he knew it was on purpose. I couldn't hold it in anymore.
This is a drunk text message. I am so glad that we are friends. Tomorrow we will eat sandwiches in miniature. We both love dogs. Flower.
Please tell me you are a size medium in men's clown onesies and that you forgot them here last night.....
Damn you and your Monday night power hours.
If you don't get head tonight I will castrate you
Seriously. Castrate.
There is booty call etiquette, and he just isn't following it. I'm not making you breakfast, gtfo.
Is it bad to have a craving for speed? I feel like my nose is thirsty.
Is it frowned upon to bring a flask to the er?
The squirrels are partying on my roof again. Now they're just rubbing it in that I'm home alone on a Saturday night and they're having orgies.
Then he texted me that I was the "good kind" of fat.
This is exactly why you shouldn't bang your bartender. Although the awkward free shots are a plus.
One of your snapchats was of you with a 40oz of Mickeys and the caption: "Deep Throat back in her natural habitat"
Apparently I was telling them, "I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN AND I DON'T NEED YOU TO HOLD MY HAIR," and I pulled my hair back and puked.
He literally knows my vagina better then I do.
He lured me round with the prospect of sex and then made me proofread his CV and spoon. I fucking hate this guy.
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