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.
Oh and discovery of the day is it's the channel, not the time on your cable box. Thought it was 2:16 for 4 hours
I have come to the conclusion that if you don't fulfill your life ambitions you should go into porn
Banging bitches in a bar bathroom is not legit as it was in college, there are no fistpumps afterward only shame
I'm also glad were at the point in our friendship where my vagina talking to you isn't weird
I want to die. Marc and I were making out in the hallway and fell into a fire hose in a glass case. It shattered everywhere. Everyone thought we fell out a window. I think I have glass in my back. Awesome.
I'm not sure that our 12-years-ago-high-school-"relationship," and 179 texts in the last 4 hours is gonna be enough to squeeze a naked smartphone picture of me. I'm gonna need some chicken wings or Makers Mark before that starts happening.
dont iron anything. we fucked on the ironing board. details to follow.
Topless dodge ball cldnt top that
He started humming whilst eating me out. At first it was weird, but my new motto is now don't knock it before you've cum from it
How was the party last night?
I'm dangerously close to shitting myself.
Is it bad that I want a job purely so I can buy drugs with without feeling like I am sacrificing my future?
Why do you think I have a job?
I wrote myself a letter, like I think drunk me wants to be pen pals or something
I don't want to inconvenience you with my dick\n\n
I can't be a daydrinker without you. It just doesn't work.
I love you too.
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