Good. You are like the clit whisperer.
Breakfast of vicodin and eggs out of a solo cup at about three in the afternoon on a wednesday...I have my life together
Breakfast is bomb, yo. McDonald's before ten thirty is like Katie Holmes before Tom Cruise.
incase your class ends early, there are three naked guys in our room. but don't get too excited, they're all gay.
A man in denim coveralls just shotgunned a beer on the dance floor
We're discussing which museums we should go to when we shroom. How ill would Picasso be?
took adderall before wrapping presents, ended up making paper snowflakes for two hours
He ran into the room yelling "attack! Attack!", jumped on top of me on the air mattress, popped the air mattress, and then we had victory sex, because he was proud of popping it.
I seriously don't understand how you keep getting laid.
Because I'm like the spider of false hope. I spin elaborate tales and snare them in my web of utter disappointment. They soon realize their mistake, but by then it's too late.
We would be rich. And the whole world would be stoned.
When we were texting for those few weeks, I some how established a crush on you. And its weird and wild and stupid and silly. But these things just have to be said sometimes to determine what's real and what is infatuation. And to suffer the consequences of five am drunk philosophy. No regrets.
Rule #36, branched off rule 4: Dave stays on a leash in crazy settings. It keeps him good and gets you laid.
So essentially he's like a puppy you can bring to a bar? Retractable leash or chain then?
Are you 5:30 blackout again?
It's like "hey I give your roommate blowjobs twice a week, want to connect on LinkedIn?"
Well. Now I feel like I put pants on for nothing.
Randomize
