I caved and texted him. But it's strictly drug dealing business so it doesn't count.
We just stood on the porch wondering how you managed to puke up a whole piece of bologna
i wish i could tell you the night didnt begin with me drinking alone
just passed out while on hold to see if i left my debit card at the bar last night.
Honestly, it was easier to just put it in my mouth than to deal with an awkward conversation.
Imagine the time you most wanted to kill yourself. Now add a room full of jail bait and no booze. Multiply that by a million.
Well the walls are thin and I can hear the couple next door having sex. I think their dog is somehow involved.
... why is there a bottle of pee on my headboard?
Dude, Donte totally wants it. I don't have any idea how I do it. I'm not even cool. I'm not even the hero Gotham deserves. I'm barely high. My hands are swelling. Want me to pick you up anything from five guys?
It gives me purpose in life to help fulfill nerdy fantasies. Like I'm doing something good for mankind and having multiple orgasms in the process.
He made the moves first, we made out...then we folded his laundry.
He is more interested in finding his sweater than he is in having sex with me. It better be a great fucking sweater.
She's officially a Tinder poltergeist.
Seriously where are the good guys?
The friend zone.
I put on that one song on Titanic so he'd fall asleep. When I was positive he'd passed out in a drunken fit, he outstretches his arms and says "I'm flying, Jack.."
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