Then she called me a home wrecking whore.
dont they live in a condo? that doesnt count.
he/she has shaved legs and makeup on. but a spare tire stomach, high socks with high heels...a wig and glasses. and still talked like a man. it was a nightmare scenario
Bookstore boy and I went out, he came back here and I tried to fool around and he respects me too much blah blah I'm a predator.
at the hospital. he locked himself in the kitchen, said he was making beer batter shrimp. don't know if it's the mercury poisoning, alcohol poisoning or second degree burns they're holding him for, but i've got a pretty guess.
On the plus side this hangover is the tipping point that finally convinced my lazy ass to get some sunglasses.
We have to use a contraceptive. God help the world if another one of us comes into fruition.
We are going to get clementines. And shoot them out of a ballon launcher. That's after we come up to the ivy with a bullhorn and reck havoc. Where are you.
I think my hand is broken. But his nose definitely is
I'm not sure how many more innuendos I can slip into this fucking conversation before I just blatantly say "I want to fuck you."
It was a karaoke bar combined with a liquor store and had a donkey pen in the back.
Keeping it classy as usual I see
my still drunk mind thought "hey this is a really good time to stand in the middle of the street barely clothed in 20 degree weather at 4 am talking about the blow job i gave him soph year of high school"
He's scared I want a relationship? How does texting him at three am and sleeping with four of my exes symbolize that?
You made me take a photo of you under the stairs at the bar. "Look I'm Harry Potter."
You was so high that you insisted that you heard someone whistle, then you insisted they was trapped in the wall!
fuck emotions I should've gotten more cats
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