Should I text him? Life is confusing when you actually like someone instead of just wanting to blow them.
we sat in the hammock and pretended we were skydiving for three hours. jack actually started crying when i convinced him his chute didnt open.
imagine playing with puppies while we're drunk.
Like... we could film it and put like, "do you believe in magic" as the backround song and it would be complete joy.
How is it that lesbians won't hit on me at a gay club, but they'll hit on me every time I go to Walmart?
well, it ended with me crying outside the strip club saying i don't want to be 21 anymoree. i'd say it was a great 21st birthday.
you made your own hammock out of a towel and duct tape.
My patience ran out after you started clapping at the strippers everytime they took off a piece of clothing.
We're downstairs cleaning up and she turns to me with these big puppy dog eyes and says "Just so you know, I didn't have sex on your couch". You have to hug that.
I am slightly proud of the fact his mom turns on the dryer located behind the spare bedroom EVERY time we visit!
I've now spilled wine and got poptarts all over my cast. So much for my doc taking me seriously...
The bros used their bong water as pong water but I walked in mid game and didn't know so they hit our first cup and I chugged it.
Running my fingers through my hair is like that scene from Patch Adams where the girl goes swimming in a pool of spaghetti. I love molly.
Not now. Out of camp chairs. Carving a new one with a chainsaw. Mushrooms are starting to kick and I gotta get this done NOW.
Do you ever have one of those days when your breasts are just fucking awesome?
How did people get blow jobs before text messaging?
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