His texts read Like a 15 year olds diary.
Dude, she looked like the Canadian Slam Poet, neck hair and all.
Nothing says "get your life together" better than waking up in a tub full of your own vomit. Twice. In one night.
He's crying and calling me out on using him. It's awful. And I'm too drunk to leave.
this is random but who was banging in the shower in our condo?
Standing in my kitchen eating choc chip cookie batter from the bowl. As sad as it is, I kinda like the places bad breakups take me.
She was a little hefty, so I turned on the strobe light in our room. Everything looks better with a strobe light.
The maid moved your bed and found almost 40 used condoms and wrappers. She just looks at me and says "Dave?"
I'm gonna rob all up in that cradle
Learn from me. When going to a booty call do not wear a belly shirt. Nothing says shame like a belly shirt at 7am.
We smoked bowls and watched Cops for what seemed like hours. And yet I know I'll go back.
And then she said "wanna make a vine of me twerking on the wall?"
Bar selfie Saturday turned into bar nudie Saturday in a hurry. I need to delete my snapchat...
No you don't understand. This tree is really alive. Like in Pocahontas.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
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