My sheets look like a crime scene.
TYLER... glimpse of last night: leather chaps, guacamole dip, a jump rope, spray paint, and rhinestone studded pajamas.
i think you have the wrong number... but your story sounds delightful.
Whose surfboard did we steal and why is there a wood carving of a pelican in the fridge where the beer used to be?
She's the rare girl who loses weight and gets uglier.
No he didn't understand the sequence...then I started texting him these texts with vagina strategically spelt correctly in jumbles of letters.
you referred to yourself as the crossing guard because of your neon shirt and began directing bar traffic
Maybe I'm a robot.
You can't be that drunk already
I waxed the left side of it and was in too much pain to do the right side so my crotch looks like cruella devil
she stopped traffic so I could crutch across the street. Clubbing while crippled and drunk is different.
You wanted to thank my penis. You wanted me to take the condom off so you could touch it and thank it.
I'm going to text my booty call and tell him nevermind, that I got the job finished by myself. That will teach him to text back faster.
This lesson is brought you by a psychology class.
If I have to strap one on and give it to you good, you will not die revirginated. That's friendship.
I made a separate snapchat account so I could swap nudes with a guy from omegle.
Why do all of your bad decisions sound like fucked up mad libs?
Would you be opposed to me keeping a live lobster in the shower for a bit?
just saw two mice fucking on our bed...i think its time to find a new place to live
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