He smothers me through text. I can't even image what he'd be like in person.
this morning he rolled over looked at me and said "oooo, you look like i need a drink" and then put on his clothes and left without another word
he woke me up at 3 am to ask me where my plunger, a towel, and staples were. i'm afraid to go into my bathroom.
Im pretty sure you told the waiter at Dennys last night to take your pants off or show a nipple.
You did this to me with your delicious pizza and moonshine.
I'll forgive you once we're drunk again by noon.
tanning, a slurpee, and a cigarette. spa day college edition
I was afraid she wouldn't be able keep up but I woke up in a bathtub, she called me a pussy and made me pancakes.
I emailed the police apartment to apologize to the officer from last night. I practically threw a hissy fit because he wouldn't hug me.
It was "against protocol"
When was the last time you wore pants?
Time is relative.
And pants are optional.
I want the address of the individual responsible for strawbeeritas. I want to send them gift basket.
I guess the wine stains on your shirt and the $2 vodka tonics you're sweating out just scream, "Welcome to DC, please ask me for directions."
I wore his All-American medal during sex. I came in first that night.
I am attempting to break the habit of calling him daddy.
dude, i told you to rally, so you sprinted upstairs, knocked some girl down, and without missing a beat said, "not now bitch, im in the fucking zone" and took off
so apparantly i made out with 24 santas last night...and an elf...and a stoner
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