Me. At least after what I've been through.
1. No more tequila 2. Why do you let me say slutty things? 3. I woke up and our apartment was covered in cake? 4. Love you
he keeps commenting everything on my facebook. it's like he's virtually peeing on me
He's Hawaiian. Thank god it wasnt a real American
i had to wake up at 4 am to do my laundry because I was afraid if I saw people in the laundry room they would judge me by the amount of clothes I had covered in vomit from syllabus week
We're sitting in his room writing songs about America. There's a verse about a dead dog. There's tequila everywhere.
I'm waiting at the bar and am surrounded by unattractive women.
You need to get here and rebalance this disturbance in the force.
I want you to get off the plane and get directly into my pants
He dislocated his shoulder trying to finger me last night if that tells you anything
He dared you to draw a map of the USA on your wall in mustard. You drew something that vaguely resembled a velociraptor eating Oklahoma, got embarrassed because you forgot how to spell America, then hid out in the coat closet until everybody left.
I think I might start referring to your vagina as a separate being now
Oh yeah I meant to tell you the Tomb Raider looking girl so crop dusted me on the stairway
We're both fucking guys named Frank. Our friendship was meant to be.
IF THE SUNS NOT EVEN OUT THEN WHY IS HIS DICK OUT WTF
He flipped a shopping cart in the back room and had to leave to make a jazz playlist. If we aren't in love then i don't know what love is.
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