I wish I could teleport
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
he looked upset that i wasn't completely shaven. i reminded him he had begged. and beggars can't be choosers.
he thought he was parachuting out of a plane... talk about a bad trip.
we hate each other therefore the sex is mindblowing
Ok, maybe I don't want to know what happened last night... But somehow I guess I moved the oven.
Helped an old lady on crutches throw away her mcdonalds, carried her stuff to the car and helped her get in...most productive cinco de mayo hands down
I feel like that needs to be the last time i end a text with "fuck them i love tequila".
you tried turning the bar into a spelling b competition last night and every time someone couldn't spell something you would make them chug.
If she says "This is how acid feels" one more time I'm never trip-sitting them again.
it's my birthday, i should be around people i want to fuck
I imagine I kinda look like a banana with one boob out.
Children cease to be precious when they crap their shorts in the pool I exercise at.
He saved that picture of my boobs for good luck romance still exists
I am watching xfiles and eating microwaved cookiedough, and I see nothing wrong with it.
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