You know you love balls. Don't act all "I-Don't-Love-Balls-ish"
i found your underwear in my bra... i dont even remember how this happened.
shit. all i remember is the look on your moms face.
I told her Billy Mays couldn't convince me to sleep with her
I was dancing barefoot on glass at one point. That really sobered me up.
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I just looked at my iPhone gps history... "the gas station", "the park with a big scary fence", "the trampoline", and, my favorite, "where we were when we were about to do lines off a bible".
He was pretty out of it. He heard crickets outside, and thought it was the laptop. So he put his ear to it, rubbed the keyboard, and said "tell me your secrets."
new girl just came onto the hall stumbling drunk with no shoes on and the guy who brought her doesn't have them either
in the middle of fucking he asked me if i had gotten a haircut because he noticed i didnt have split ends anymore. i dont know what to think
I feel like this is the moment of high where you have to write these texts down to remember to text them and feel that somehow this is important to the continuity of the world.
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There is a hatefuck that has the destruction level of an atom bomb raging through my viens just aching to vaporize her.
The cop actually kicked the bitches out of the cab so we could get ours. I flipped them all off as the door was shutting. That drunk.
I'm pretty sure I just need an IV drip of Plan B at this point...
He said I was doing well, so I stopped mid blow job to compliment his grammar. You could say I like intellectuals
I left my ice cream out over night, it's melted, fuck this, I just poured Bailey's in it. Problems solved.
He was simultaneously rubbing my shoulders and fucking me. I'm keeping him.
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