So what's the moral of this story? Aside from 'lesbians hold grudges'?
We all know the best way to start a relationship is greeting while at least one of you are intoxicated, dual facebook stalking, and a two week long game of 20 questions via texts to 'really' get to know each other. In that order.
I wouldn't have it any other way. It's like a fairy tale!
I remember spending $50 at Ozzie's on Friday...my Visa remembers $120.
So i guess my mom went into the kitchen and asked me why i was making mac and cheese at 4 in the morning and apparently i yelled at her to "get the fuck back bitch you don't know my life"
My therapist told me it was ok for me to "take risks" now. Cue the hookers and blow.
The bouncer yelled at him for poking at the guy selling roses, I think it's time to leave.
I know. It's cray. Crayon. Crayolaaaaa.
He stumbled into my room, flopped on my bed, shoes on my pillow and asked me for a juice box. Then fell asleep with the juice box on his forehead.
You made me drive your car so you could give the dude from the parking lot a BJ in the back seat. Classy.
I'm so poor. I just wiped my ass with cocktail napkins... That I stole from the neighbors... When I was over there stealing Cheetos.
Well you ended up trying to convince two Greek girls that you were Greek, but failed massively by shouting at them in Spanish, and then almost vomiting after taking way too much snuff. Maybe lay off the guinness next time?
I feel like I missed the land of milk and honey and instead wound up in the land of beer and pizza. And yet, I think I'm happier here.
She shows up drunk at 3am for sex and then punches me straight in the eye in the middle of it because "you're too nice."
I don't just want drugs. I deserve drugs.
Did that sound smart? Cuz beneath the boozy exterior beats the heart of a fucking scientist.
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