So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
you told me your penis was albino and it couldnt be exposed to light so you needed to keep it in me
do you know how scary it is to wake up in a CATSCAN machine after a night of drinking?
you're letting him buy you a plane ticket...to kentucky...so you can fuck him?
i know. i'm only adding to the interstate sex trade problem.
I'm really not interested in hearing from him. Unless there is casual sex involved
TAing a class of 300 froshies and being so hungover I forgot a bra is my way of making dreams come true.
I never want to hear the words unlimited shots for boobs in the same sentence ever again.
Ok I'm good with that cause I'm gonna disappear for 90 days
Are you goin to rehab again?
He insists on falling asleep with his penis between my buttcheeks. He says its his "home".
I also got a mission for you and you're gonna love it. Biggest. Hospital. Party. Ever.
Last night you told me you "were too high" and didn't deserve a hashbrown.
I just wanted to be nice to your dick and you are rhyming at me.
three of my fingers are bleeding and the only thing on my phone rn is a google search of 'Allison Janney'
Drinks have officially taken priority over self-respect, and I'm not even all that torn up about it.
I'm going to get him a gold star sticker and put it on his dick
Randomize
