I can't remember if we talked about feelings. Fuck you Miller High Life.
Apparently you make a good broom.
this is a mass text: i just made a grilled cheese with an iron and pasta with the coffeemaker in the hotel room. bow before your new god.
His mom walked into the kitchen smiling, made a scotch on the rocks, hit my bong, and told us goodnight enthusiastically. He's suddenly more appealing to me.
There was a note in my hello kitty underwear telling me "don't go over 9000"
He brought a jar of pickles to the party. So now I've had beer, animal crackers, AND a pickle since noon.
My penis has a 100% approval rating. He has never received a formal complaint. If you'd like to file one, you can go fuck yourself.
Don't worry, your car is safe with me. I am throwing watermelons out of it at mailboxes and hipster kids.
Don't be alarmed at the kitchen mess. I had to shoot the fire extinguisher on the toaster oven, one quick blast. It was a matter of safe over sorry.
I didn't want to leave, I wanted to move into his ass
Money making scheme, blow job proof mascara. Waterproof is bullshit
my goal is to never have a bac of 0.0 the whole time while in the state of florida, which means i have to chug a beer before i cross the state line
I should stop pointing to my vagina when I say "I'm in charge!"
i ate pretzels. i might be the first human to be hospitalized from pretzels. that's how bad this is.
You can help me! We'll make an occasion of it. Have some rum, make some smores, condemn the email system to the pits of hell...
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