oh vodka. i could write you a sonnet.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
you know you were refereeing rock paper scissors for who got to make out with your sister right?
he just kept repeating that I have nice areolas
shouldve known this week was gonna be bad when I threw up in my coffee mug
I remember trying to cut the power to a house I thought was "too bright to understand the meaning of christmas". Pretty sure I blacked out down the street.
Oh, and she's that dumb bitch that goes out in public in full make up and sweats with uggs. I hope she falls face first in a bowl of queso and drowns
"Wait, who's gun did I have?" Moments when you re-examine your life choices.
I'm eating those little wheels of cheese and watching storage wars, this is the opposite of sex.
Hello. You don't know me, but word on the street is that we are now eskimo sisters. I feel like we should go out for coffee and compare experiences.
True love is when you jack off and continue talking to the girl you like
Why do you text me weird shit like this?
You are talking to me during sexting hours. Be careful, innuendos are taken seriously
It's not even a normal fucking affair I've found myself in. It's a fucking bdsm clusterfuck.
i'm not too sure if he's up to my expectations looks-wise, but in the penis department he exceeds ALL regulations.
"They won't do it. I'm in the middle of darkness. " and "Probably going to die. I've been walking for 50 minutes in one direction" are the last texts I got from Steve
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