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.
people should stop making movies, we'll never top bio-dome.
She woke up 3 seperate times, each time she had a look of pure terror on her face, she had no clue where she was.
He def has a gf... But hes 7 feet tall and that superceeds any morality I may have.
Slept on the counter again. Mom covered me in an apron.
Depending on hangover severity. The fact that I can spell severity is in your favor.
You walked away saying that you had to pee and you never came back. We found you an hour later in his roommate's bed. Under the covers. Still in your wet bathing suit.
It took him an hour to realize I wasn't this "Sarah" girl, and by then he was already crying and eating pizza rolls.
The bar has bullet holes in the ceiling, and the country singer had been playing drunken weezer covers. A man just bought me a beer on the grounds that I 'have his back' in a fist fight with a stranger texan. And, yes, the bartender is wearing a sherif's badge
I only think it appropriate to apologize for making out with your next boyfriend. It won't happen again.
I'm sorry I pissed in your bedroom and then woke you up when I tried to jump off the balcony
He went down on me for an hour and a half. He needs to get promoted more often.
Hey. You dropped and smashed your road beer in my store last night. Again. And this time you didn't even order anything. You just walked in, yelled "SWEDISH STYLE!" Then lost your beer, looked depressed, and left.
We are back but we are listening to stairway to heaven in my car. Amy is air drums. Be back when it's over.
A sultry night of tacos and sex sounds nice. Should I bring home milk?
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