Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Just woke up. First thing I see: Little brother eating last night's jello shots thinking they're reg jello.
New plan: we get a little bit drunk and go to 24 hour fitness and be eachothers wing people so we can hit on in shape hot people at a gym instead of drunk idiots at a bar.
You can't just say things like "great depression theme party" and then not respond.
Just found pics of us from Mardi Gras last year. Your boob job really is better than mine.
The trip involved octopus tentacles coming from the little holes in my TV's speakers. The beauty of the nonexistant symbolism had me in tears.
Please tell me why your entire hallway smells like microwaved condoms.
Day drinking is so dangerous way too many construction workers out there to flirt with
Btw kudos to your tongue last night. Sorry about that lady jizz in your beard.
So here's a tip: don't give a blowjob the same morning you're going to the dentist. Cuz they will think you have "mouth trauma."
I bought the restaurant a boat airhorn to wake up sleeping employees.
I love you
But I made it seem like I wasn't hungover at work, so that's a plus.
Are you alive? Cause this is my official "im actually alive" text.
It was terrible. I am sore from head to toe, neither of us got off, and we were at it for an hour and a half, I faked having a heart episode so we could stop. It worked.
We're hate flirting, damnit.
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