Dude stop singing. Your life is not an episode of fucking glee
i woke up at 5 am and found myself wrapped in christmas lights that were plugged into the wall.
I'm honestly too sad to drink and hang out with strippers. This breakup sucks.
I mean, we started to hook up but my asthma attack kind of killed the mood
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He referred to his cock as "The cock" like it was third party or something.
I can't decide who is the bigger alcoholic: you for opening that bottle of wine just now or me for hearing it in the other room over the air conditioner
I don't know... But I do think this is probably the longest series of texts we've written discussing your cock. David was right, it is a brave new world. Also, slow day at work again?
I can't. I think his penis is about to take out a restraining order against me.
Btw, do you want me to fix this with a box of wine and a chick flick or is this more of a 'lets head to the strip club' problem? I'm just trying to analyze the emotional depth of the situation.
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Also the McRib is back. Lets get high, dress like cowboys, and eat some McRibs.
I seriously have her in my phone as "Legit 8"...even I'm surprised
Leaving the puke on the ceiling as a reminder.
I look like a hot mess, emphasis on the hot now, more emphasis on the mess later
MY GUT IS TELLING ME YES AND SO IS MY VAGINA
No reason. My tongue went numb after one shot. I may die tonight
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