dude, my own friends sent me home from a party last night. real cool assholes. real cool
hey what are you doing
hooking up with some marlborough girl. shes gorgeous!
i texted you because i like you, and i told my freinds you were my fiance. but sine we're not dating you're not cheating and i'm pathetic
don't go back without me... they'll know i'm pooping.
Car fucking is for special occasions like birthdays and bank holidays. Don't want to lose the magic by making it an everyday thing.
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I wish Michael J Fox could read me bedtime stories
He could rock you to sleep
If your still trying to figure out the moment I stopped caring; it was the point in which you said "I really wasn't sure whose baby it was"
i just used google streetview to figure out where i spent the night last night
all you kept yelling was "i'm bored and i'm sober"
Dude they have ski ball. Anywhere that has skiball is bound to be bangin.
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I need you to stand in the corner and ref this threesome. Wear stripes.
But I aced my quizzes. Apparently flash card beer pong is an acceptable form of studying.
So I definitely tried to pay a cab with baseball tickets last night
I'm not sure why, but my salad smells like a Big Mac. Or maybe that's just the smell of yesterday's, seeping through my skin.
Dealing with people is so much easier after you've had an orgasm or 4.
My nipples are raw, I've yet to go to bed, I feel like death, and I'm at work. Thank you jack, crown, and Lafayette!
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