Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
some guy just walked up to the bench i was on, backflipped off of it, gave me his number and walked away....i love this city
he stopped making out with me and said "can I make you grilled cheese? I feel like I owe YOU something"
He jacked off on my pillow when he found out I left. It was like coming home and finding that your dog, with separation anxiety, had pooped in your shoes. I think I'm flattered...
sticking your hands in the toilet to wash your face is not acceptable. ever. i don't care how drunk you are.
You slept with a red coat way too close to independence day. It's just very unpatriotic.
apparently putting your t-shirt on your head with a bottle of captain and telling girls your the pirate king of tallahassee doesn't work
Turns out the average person our age has never run from the cops. Life: we're doing it right.
Making a me burrito to ward off the cold...and the aloneness of my vagina
Dude of course I want to. Your penis is beautiful.
Jenn from HR called him the new office boy toy. I think I need to bathe in bleach.
The Vicodin is in the strawberries.
Fuck you i've put so many pretzels in her shirt
Update on my sex life: my calves are sore from masturbating too much. It's a thing. Look it up.
I figured it out! There's blood on the kitchen floor because I fell into the dishwasher. And there's a face dent. And it doesn't work.
Yea.....I saw that happen.
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