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.
So we went to home depot to buy supplies to build a beer bong but ended up buying an office water cooler that were going to put vodka in
You just begged me to mute the porn and watch her ass bounce while listening to dubstep the whole time.
I feel like if Miami and New Jersey fucked each other and produced a baby that would summarize the bar I'm in.
I'm sober. Being kissed by a chick with a llama puppet. Shoot me now.
I just discovered I can sober up while teaching class
how many times have i told you.. they dont like when you laugh during sex
He kept telling me Te Amo last night. Over and over. And that he was scared. Drunkenly. In Spanish.
he's like watermelon oreos; I know they're gross and weird and I shouldn't like them, but I can't stop eating them because they're there.
Trying to put a fitted sheet on drunk is one of the boss levels of slutty adulthood.
It is a fiery spray of napalm-covered beautiful words that leave a flaming "fuck you" on the ground after I destroy him.
I dont have to work tomorrow im yelling gibberish at squirrels
You're just a heartbreaker with a knitting problem
He stole me a cantaloupe and we drunkenly broke into a park and ate it on a bench with my pocket knife. I think i need to marry him
I can't believe we broke the fucking lamp.
*i* can't believe believe we broke the lamp fucking.
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