I found your twin in sf. His name is ryan. And you are the evil one.
I'm at the bass pro shop. They have a river full of trout and turtles, a shooting range, a full bar, and the patriots cheerleaders are here. I now understand why people are rednecks. I may never leave
I'm not sure what happened last night, but my turtle seems afraid of me.
We've had the 'life would be so much better if we were both lesbians' conversation too much for that to be okay.
After she came with my hands around her neck, she sat there for a minute and gave me the scuba diving sign for a-ok.
Said he made a playlist for taking a shit. only two songs on it are the Star Wars theme and "America, fuck yeah" set to repeat.
I'm being responsible and going as a gay, slutty Mormon missionary. It's responsible because I'll have a bike helmet on for when I fall over because I'm too shitfaced to stand upright. It's safer than Count Fagula. I just need to come up with a line equal or greater than "Blaaaa I want to suck your dick"
He told me about how he pissed his pants last weekend like it was a normal part of conversation. Within 10 minutes I was going home with him. I think he put me under some kind of spell.
Just found a uh poem I wrote on ambien. It says to "cry your seamen filled tears" and "I hope you take a dagger to your vagina" and at the end it says "sincerely, God". What.the.fuck do they put in that pill?
My vagina is trying to run away to Boston without me.
That dog was the best thing i ever touched
Tommarow we shall sacrifice the freshmen to the sun god
Well. I guess talking about me stealing your wife may not be in the list of legit conversations
he had a Pillsbury dough boy tattoo to remind him of his drug dealing days
I blame her lesbian super powers of coercion.
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