Hey you
You're the only one I'll text back during sex. what's up?
he borrowed my computer and saw his name in my recent google searches. Things got awkward real fast.
You came in at two thirty, wearing your underwear and a tie then asked where you could find a sombrero and a pair of stilletos that would fit your men's size thirteen feet.
Oh the joys of strong arming a man into exclusivity
He gave me a promise ring. He promised that he will imagine me as every girl he fucks in college.
I was walking around outside with a basket of eggs. I feel like little house on the prairie: hungover edition.
All you have to drink is moonshine and ranch. This is bullshit.
The underwear in the garbage is clean. Just wipe the pizza sauce off
Absolutely. I could drink and smoke that memory away in a matter of years at my current rate.
I'm instituting a new rule. If you wake me up at 3am about wrinkled blankets, I get to throat punch you
i am an animal i am literally locking myself in my house and not coming out for a week i don't deserve to be in public
He seemed genuinely disappointed when I told him I wasn't going to make out with him to Bring Me To Life by Evanescence so I feel like I've pinpointed the breaking point of this relationship
I am that special "drink water and be grateful I'm alive" kind of hungover
like sometimes I wish I was allergic to latex so I wouldn't have sex with so many people..
So, 'head before the store' turned into a fuck fest, & that's how I ended up at the grocery store smelling like a cum farm on Black Friday. How's your weekend?
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