all you did was keep googling "what time is it" over and over and over
I have six drafts of messages to you that just say "blood" and I have no idea where they came from.
Every time I try to stand up the back of my head feels like a bunch of little elves are beating the inside of my scalp with their toy making tools. What disease could this be?
I remember three things: you falling down an entire flight of stairs, me stripping out of your Christmas one-sie to do cartwheels in my underwear, and people standing above me saying, "where did that bump on her head come from?"
Also, I was told I kept the antlers on the entire time. I'm deeming last night a success.
I found a lucrative side business - giving rides home to drunk oil executives. Very profitable.
We have such limited time together he literally sends me text messages that are like "I sent my roommates on an impossible quest, we have 15 minutes." it's that bad.
Donald Trump and I would be so adorably orange together!
I have no idea what that means but I'm googling things just so I can watch my thumbs move
My vagina was just really confused why you weren't inside it
how does someone with a Masters Degree leave poop in an ashtray in the sink? It just blows my mind
The original plan involved fireworks and a lot more dildos but the new one is still okay.
I decided not to look up the nudes, because I believe that there is a line, and that mocking my old classmate's horrid nudes alone crosses that line.
He gives me the same feeling I get when someone puts a margarita or German chocolate cake in front of me
I'll text you tomorrow when I'm not in someone's torture cave if I don't by noon call for help.
Looking back at our past texts, the minute it turned 2020 you were cleaning your house and I was dying of the cold. We were prophesying the Rona.
Randomize
