we're blogging at a bar
the only reason he called me tonight was because I fertilized his crops on farmville.
Im am drinking whisky alone in my parents basement. I think I just watched the point of no return stroll by.
the can pyramid on my head actually reached a decent height before I moved.
All he was doing was sitting in the car, staring. We asked him what was wrong and he just turned, smiled, and said "everything has its own pair of boots"
Well let's just say that she ended up trying to get it in with the wheelchair guy, who btw, can get an erection and quickly I might add
I was passed out on the dog bed yelling "I UNDERSTAND"
We stuck the straw in the bourbon as a joke, you saw it as a challenge.
Apparently I yelled "no stop it" in my sleep last night when he tried to cuddle with me.
Oops, guess its official. I just use him for sex.
It's that time of the week again where I begin to ponder life's great questions like, "What will my pathetic excuse for a future look like?" and "Why tacos?"
I want a calm night. Not one where I wake up to you topless and bloody.
There was a selfie of you in the dark pointing at the camera with a duck face. You sent it to my 60 year old mother with the caption "you behave"
Was there a condom involved? Because he was saying he wanted a kid. Repeatedly.
I feel like the only way to get him to stop is by telling him i'm tired from fucking our other friend every night this week
I love you man I just want to hold you and fuck you until you only know my name
I don't know who you are but HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET MY NUMBER
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