haha it's okay then, bc he only killed a canadian, they're not real people
My life is like the prequel to "40 Year Old Virgin"
I looked at you and you stared at me dead in the eyes then sprayed febreze at your crotch and winked.
I fell asleep at the bar. And the bouncer threw a snowball at my face.
Got free coffee because I told the guy at starbucks the pleats in his khaki pants made his cock look big.
He got tattooed, peirced, and we're pretty sure he got rufeed by that fat chick. He was like a walking spring break stereotype.
all i remember is him tryin to explain to the girls how to effectively hit the strip club with their bfs
hes actually pretty persuasive when he drinks
I'm wearing your poncho, and only your poncho. I'm not getting pulled over like this.
I'm trying not to drink. I may fall down if I move. This is bad. I had everclear before the bar. Oh no. Oh no. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
it's ok my mom asked me why i had a guys shirt on and also why there was chocolate all over my bra
There is a video on my phone of me suckling a bag of wine from your crotch area while you say "The Body of Christ" in a Michigan accent. I vaguely remember being offended by this yet I did it anyway.
I'm serenading his dick with my words. I understand how poets get inspiration now.
See that doesn't work because we've had sex so its awkward for you to call me mom
This conversation went from me banging other women's husbands to learning about baked goods. If that isn't personal growth I don't know what is.
It's slightly odd going to a booty call during morning rush hour with everyone else going to work.
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