I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
can you please tell me why I'm bleeding so heavily from my ass and all my makeup is gone?
since you saved your number in my phone as "the hot chick you met last Friday" I don't know who you are either
The guy I fucked in San Diego is camping with us for coachella... Awk.
We have an unspoken agreement. He helps me move and I give him a blow job. It's really unfair to him considering he doesn't know how much shit I have.
I went in the closet and cried, then the bathroom and cried, and lastly he showed me his penis and I cried. It was a weird night.
This guy on the bus keeps leaning over and sniffing my hair.
i dont get why youre mad at me. i promised you he looked like jim morrison and you failed to ask me like which era
a guy just walked through our campsite, crouched down by the truck, screamed "ACID ONLY LASTS FOR 8 HOURS RIGHT?!", then ran off into the bushes
I asked you for a cigarette and you handed me your phone and told me to search for one
Captain Morgan does not know self control. Nor does he teach it.
It's like jay gatsby himself preordained that our genitals meet again.
Is there such thing as a tasteful dick pic? I think I just got one if they exist.
I was so high I just stared at the papa john's app on my phone and cried
Where you been?
Please tell me this is a booty call
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