Bank of America texted me 7 times in 12 hours to say my balance was below $50. I kept transfering money back in. Then I texted my bank saying that it was okay, i knew what I was doing.
i think i'd rather have a trophy of a like jizz stained curtain or something
My own vomit just splashed me in the face. How's your day going
He asked the clerk if they sell a penis-shaped brander.
I'm very fluent in vodka, but that seems to be a whiskey dialect.
I kind of learned that hotels are unnecessary. Boys will just take you home, but that's tough with a group. I believe in us, though.
Just for future reference, me asking if you're free, followed by a winking face is not my way of suggesting a tandem bike ride.
Just come get me. Somewhere there's hobo that's going to want his dumpster back, and I kinda want to be gone when he discovers the vomit.
He yelled at me to keep it in my pants and I replied with I will fuck your roommate as much as I please. Oops
I'm ordering dildos in a santa hat. You?
Well I can cross 'get my dick slathered in coconut oil while watching the bob's burgers porn parody' off my bucket list.
Holy fuck, my entire boob is bruised! Lierally my boob is just one big bruise.
We kept having to tell you that you couldn't just sit wherever you wanted at Walmart. Sitting in the middle of the raw meat section was unacceptable and children were staring at you.
there's a giant awkward home-wrecking elephant in the room. and its name is meg.
we cut you off when you started chasing with your slim fast shake
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