she was left over bi-product, like the hotdog of the human race
I can feel you judging me through the phone.
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
You can't just send the picture of my vagina back to me, 2 months after we broke up, and make small talk out of it.
Ecstasy should be its own food group.
How am I supposed to stop smoking pot when girl scout cookies are being sold.
A houseboat for a bachelor party is a terrible idea, we nearly die when on dry land, so how the hell are we supposed to survive a 3 day binge on a massive lake?
first time i ever mailed panties back to a fuck buddy. what better of a way to say its over
I'm not even mad. I was just trying to get a boner, you're the one that had to see that
I woke up sandwiched between them, all of us naked, and they were just sharing a cigarette, a donut, and the paper like it was just some normal post-threesome Sunday brunch.
and than he said 'I did amateur porn for a while' and I just knew tinder did not fail me this time
I snapchatted him nudes and he didn't screenshot a single one of them because he's a gentleman.
I'm eating a block of cheese like its a sandwich in the tsa line
Just deepthroated a hot dog. Thinking of you
Every time I look at him 'Relax' by Frankie Goes to Hollywood plays in my head. Is that weird?
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