please tell me I'm in your upstairs bedroom. Just google mapped myself and I have no idea where I am.
I think we should urban dictionary "drive of shame." It involves a sprint to your car in his underwear and shirt, surreptitiously trying to put on your bra on at stoplights without attracting attention from neighboring cars, and lurking in your car a block from home so you can know when your roommate leaves for work.
You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
I can feel you judging me through the phone.
Got blown by one of the bridesmaids. Family BBQ today. They all know. Talk about awkward.
No way. Our relationship is based solely on texting and sex. A phone call would be too much at this point.
Had a farmer come into my class to talk to us today. He apparently met his wife on fb and just thanked jesus for his land. I think I am in the wrong major...
In the middle of pouring my wine you asked me if I could hear your vibrator from my room.
Whenever there is a ShotSki involved, I have no excuse but to drink, right? It's like a rule.
He just dragged himself across the floor on his back claiming to be "the swiffer" help
You guys don't happened to be dressed as gladiators, do you?
Text me back. Urgent. It is a porta Keep the portal alive.
Is this the acid talking?
You will go out on a boat of flames filled with honor, sarcasm, and assholery, let me assure you.
these are times I'm glad I'm Jewish because the Torah is just like "drink, eat, and fuck"
Good, be his mentor. Like a tiny gay Yoda.
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