I don't think he has that. His apartment was pretty much a tv and a bed. Topless girl calendar and a glass of water to put out cigarettes.
he just wrote my ten page research paper for tit pics. i love my boobs.
I like how washing the beer bong is now a regular part of washing the dishes.
he left me a note this morning. it said "thank you for letting me touch you"
On the airplane today the pilot actually said "Ladies and gentlemen I'm sorry for the delay. But I know all of you have problems, and so do we..."
you were passed out snoring, face down with all your clothes still on and 20 minutes later you sat up and said "FUCK YES" and then passed out again.
I am three bowls, two beers, and a muscle relaxer into babysitting. What are you doing.
Give me one reason I shouldn't put the phrase "sex emotions" into my essay.
No.
Thanksgiving Shitshow: My grandparents found me passed out on the bathroom floor wearing nothing but a scarf made of toilet paper
Announcement: Given the sad circumstances regarding the death of my dearest friend Chong the Bong, there will be a brief memorial service for him tomorrow evening at 10:30 at my place. After sharing some memories and sending his spirit off to the great bowl in the sky, we will all take place in the commemoration and maiden voyage of his son, Chong Squared, who eagerly waits to meet all of you. High blessings to you all, piece be with you.
No, I don't just love you because you have big boobs. I just wouldn't visit as often.
Forever getting my life back together in gas station bathrooms.
I don't need to marry the guy. I just need some filthy, shameful wish fulfillment sex and then live out the rest of my life on the bean farm.
I can count on one hand the number of good things that happened over the past year.
I just bought spray paint, a T-shirt, and a box of magnum condoms. The cashier refused to make eye contact! Haha
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