my phone is set on vibrate and its tucked up in my left front pocket. call me back 20 times real quick.
Bad news: I had to be at work at 7:15. Good news: no one had used the bathroom yet so I got to defile a freshly cleaned stall
Sorry if I ruined your sex last night with my constant text updates about the plot of Bolt.
I don't want her to kill herself before she gets over me, getting mentioned in a suicide note isn't very fly.
but it's kind of a high honor.
while cleaning my room, i've found many wonderful things. one of these is the card you gave me for my eighteenth birthday. it's a christmas card that says "i want to stick it in your sponger"
i screwed him while his gf was puking in the shower. 2011 is looking up already
thank you for letting me use your house as a brothel.
All I know is she walked in crying with a bag of limes and a bottle of tequila and has been locked in her room blasting lil wayne ever since.
I've got beer and a bag of saltwater taffy and croutons, is that enough for this typhoon thing?
You can't say "my boobs are wonderful" and not expect my drunken subconscious to focus on wanting to see them. Btw-can I see them?
My Sundays are fucking awful. Can't get a blow job.....can't get a win.
Good, I don't think Coke dipped ring pops hold up in the mail anyway.
the last thing i heard from her was "i wanna get fucked by a stranger" and i haven't seen her since
Somehow my boobs came up in conversation AGAIN last night and I'm still not getting laid...
Actually I learned to fire a 357 Magnum at the age of ten while on my very first period
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