I found out he doesn't have a facebook, twitter, or myspace. So, I'm going to actually go to his house to spy on him.
he knocked over the vodka and juice...picks up the cup and says "yes", takes the last sip...doesnt even worry about the mess all over the floor and we continue having sex.
But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
You need to stop having girl talk with the guys I'm sleeping with.
I found a fingernail in my vagina. A fingernail.
Can I color on your dick again?
You said you'd make me a thank you card for taking care of your drunk ass. I'll be expecting that monday.
From now on, you must never doubt my ability to go from drunken rambling lovesick girl to Stepford wife within the course of a few hours.
Everyone's impressed that I actually got pee all over his car since I'm a girl and they're a little curious..
My kid just put flowers in my hair to make me pretty, then showed my boobs to an entire playground. He's either the best wingman or the worst.
new dating motto: let your guard down, not your panties
Drunk wound on my leg hast healed and neither has my dignity
You continued to run around saying "free the nipple" while "taste testing" every liquor on the premises.
I don't think meeting his drug dealers counts as a relationship landmark.
He listens to me complain and in return I send him naked pictures. It's a win win situation
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