Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Breakfast of vicodin and eggs out of a solo cup at about three in the afternoon on a wednesday...I have my life together
we made a giant pot of alcholic jello. i filled a gallon bag and brought it to dorms. desk guy gave me weird looks, he doesnt realize this is how i will pass all of my room searches
went out last night and woke up on the bathroom floor again, thinking about just moving my bed in there.
its so hard to text. the buttons are tickling my fingers
All of the sudden your world had become nothing but the sum of visible dicks. Welcome to life.
Seriously though, you almost tore my right nipple off.
Honestly I will go to church for him, I will even try to quit smoking for him. But his dick is not worth losing alcohol. He sure as fuck isn't taking away our wine nights.
You were peeing on a bus yelling fuck public transit, congratulations.
He wants to make me arch my back "like I'm having an exorcism". Not sure if I'm turned on or freaked out.
you left your anal beads in the dishwasher
The fact our science teacher from high school was buying us drinks and hitting on me doesn't matter.
But the problem is you celebrate with your heart but I celebrate with my liver
You cannot ask her to resend the picture of her genital tattoo to you just so you can show your room mate. it is time to end your relationship with the Captain.
I resent the implication of a jizz addiction
Randomize
