Now he's talking about how he's writing in a journal because he doesn't remember "his thought patterns when he was in elementary and that's distressing". I'm walking home. Fuck this.
he was already passed out before we got there, so i already knew i was going to like him
i gave him a hand job with one hand and held the 40 with the other. this is like freshman year all over again.
Try and take me seriously and don't look directly at my hair or the jizz on my pants.
That's the last time you call me to prove to some girl at a bar that you're English. It's bad enough that you actually get to fuck them because of it without having to wake me up to seal the deal.
And at least you didn't have a dinner of Ranch Pringles and Double Stuff Oreos. I forgot that part of being single.
I'm tired of stuffing my fat into a slutty costume. Next year let's go as homeless girls. Cute ones. In leggings with camel toe.
HIV testing and a light brunch. Sounds like a great way to spend Christmas Eve.
Maybe you'll have a Christmas miracle
Why the fuck is he under my phone as Papi Chulo?
We exchanged spring break stories last night. Open relationships are the best.
He was trying to talk to me about standards while he had a french fry box on his hand like a glove and was using it to flatten his cheeseburger.
Please tell me I was just dreaming when I asked if I could borrow your jesus dildo
He was telling me about how he's leaving on his Mission next week... While we were having sex in the back of his car.
the wedding party just walked in to the song eye of the tiger. i'm getting drunk.
Fuck you bitch. You're married. You got a live-in dick at home for your needs. I still gotta surf this shitty town's bars for cock
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