my dad brought home flowers.. so i started talking to them
okay, I promise to stop paying strippers to hit you
I passed out on my porch last night. I'm still making it to class. This is what growing up means.
He poured all of the vodka into the sweet tea and said that tomorrow it would be called 'surprise drunk.' then we had sex.
Chilling. The soap was talking at one point if I rememeber right...
Drinking Hot Toddies on the Porch and blasting bob dylans "hurricane" bring it on sandy!
By 11 pm the pants were off and there was no turning back. But on the bright side, you promised me your CDs when you died, you even signed a napkin saying so.
He barged in the room with no shirt on, all fucking ripped with a half keg under one arm. Sara now calls him Bronan the Beerbarian
theres too many punctuation errors in that text to turn me on.
He texted me at 3am that you cut your hand at the bar and were bleeding all over.
I woke up to a text thinking you bled out at a bar, turns out you got your butthole licked.
Never start off a conversation with "speaking of STD's..."
He asked me how flexible I was and all I could think about was that time I threw my back out putting in a tampon.
I told him that we shouldn't complicate things. He responded with a dick pic.
so he'll eat food out of a dumpster but he won't lick your ass?
Turns out dignity is priceless and Plan B costs $41.09
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