i don't remember her name, but i don't need it unless we decide to hook up again. but even then, i can get away with not knowing it for a while. it's not like we have actual conversations.
Probably should plan this out. Step one: grow stache. Two: get trenchcoat. Three: Kidnap Selena Gomez.
I had better be fucking involved with step four.
She told me at midnight she would blow me harder than a new years party kazoo
he said he wanted to butter my pancake. i thought it was sexual, but he went downstairs and made pancakes. i need to stop dating fat guys.
Hey can we break in your window? We need to borrow the dog.
I lost it last night. That was humiliating. Cincinnati is now covered in my puke.
I know how to say Yes, No, and Your Mother's Vagina. So almost fluent.
He's like the unplanned child of drunkenness
somehow this turned into a costume party you have to get here now with my banana suit or I'm wearing my birthday suit
That awesome feeling when you are pooping on the same toilet that nobel laureates have pooped on
He's like a father figure to me, except we have casual drunk sex every now and then
dude, she has my telletubby sweats and my good sweatshirt hostage, I can't risk their safety with a breakup
Just ate Panda Express. Fortune cookie had no fortune in it. I actually prefer this. Less broken dream potential.
I've broken 3 vibrators in the past month because I apparently am "too rough" with them. Is that even possible?!
may or may not have snorted a line of tums... wtf.
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