I used a bag of wine as a pillow last night.
never. drinking. again.
lets not get ahead of ourselves.
He was telling me how the song fireflies makes him feel like he can talk to animals
like in an apt above a crackhead. A LEGIT CRACKHEAD. he woke me up every morning this week asking me if I wanted to buy a mini fridge and some CDs. at 5 am. EVERY DAY.
Sophomore year, I fucked on your desk chair. I'm sorry. I love you.
They're taking me to ER. Mistasnkingly. Come get me.
How do you feel about fucking me quick and then me leaving to go do arts and crafts?
Oh we will ALWAYS be together. Or I'll have to delete my Facebook altogether. I've drunkenly boobie trapped photos of us into every album. There's no way I'd ever have the patience to go through that deletion process.
Standards are awful. It's like living in the zombie apocalypse. You can only have sex with certain people
i just came to a realization. Besides probably food, in my lifetime i think i have spent more money on legal fees than anything else
Can you tell me why Star Wars Burlesque is pulled up on my phone from last night?
A penis isn't a time share. I want to own not rent.
we fucked in the backseat of my car at the observatory, right under the stars. it was a starry, orgasmic filled night
Pants are for mortals
So about that you can bill me for the chair but it was David's idea to jump from the window sill into the washer with "clothing pillows of cloudiness" to land on to get ahold of him you have to phone his mother
I just talked to her she really hates you like a lot
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