She passed out in my bed last night before anything happened. She felt really bad about that, so she gave me head when we woke up this morning.
I wish there was a lawn mower version of Roomba so I could just drink and cheer it on from the stoop.
Gotta love hanging with Nat. By the time guys realize she isnt going home with them, they've spent enough money and time to think I'm a good idea.
I'm glad the dog doesn't judge me for doing leftover lines and watching George of the Jungle at 10 am
I'm mad at him and disappointed with you. It's like I put a bunch of effort into a PowerPoint of "what not to do with Zach" to show you and the first bullet point was "do not love him" and you're just disregarding all my effort and friendship.
I have to make mistakes myself to learn from them
FUCK YOU I AM MAKING A POWERPOINT
I can't handle dick pics with conversational captions
The ONLY place I sext is in my anatomy class. It's an amped up level of playing doctor.
Woke up with a 6lb bucket of Redvines with a note that said "I'm sorry" care to explain?
If I died tonight, I'd be content knowing you were the last person to see my boobs.
O was like, nah, fuck 50-50. My version of bi is that i'm 80% gay, 20% drug-addled decisions. Apparently he's straight on hallucinogens.
They forgot my ranch. They're dead to me.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
Only I would get an underage 24 hours before turning 21.
I'm alone, 3 beers in, and cutting tshirts into belly tops.
We're in an alley with a psychic wizard, shes reading our palms
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