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.
Tonight must have been good, I have already had two cups of coffee but still couldn't figure out how to operate a door.
I'm going to appeal my grade. Is it better to look studious or slutty?
I was told to ask you about memoirs of a geisha.
The pet store wouldn't sell us fish because they said they could tell we were drunk.
We found her on the trampoline. She told us she was jumping so she could puke & rally. I think I want to marry her.
I don't know if I want to cry scream puke or go somewhere and drink more. This is such a weird emotion.
If our text convos ever saw the light of day lives would be in tatters
I threw up in my closet when I was hammered last night. Like a fucking toddler. I can't play with the grow ups.
I have woke up on a strange couch, in a strange house, on another campus. Can you Friend-Find me and pick me up?
I got a blow torch for Christmas. You are now permitted to be afraid.
I just remembered touching your bosses wife's fake tits last night. Thanks again for taking me to your work function.
Yeah! Just remind me to. I'll also bring the blow up penis
STOP TRYING TO FUCK MY DAD
THE HOT GUY IS YOUR DAD?!?!?!?!???
I've finally done it. I finally achieved my lifelong goal of becoming that awkward lesbian in high school who went on to have sex with more women than any of her male classmates.
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