So #1 way to come back last night and #2 wishbone and I broke into his house and i opened joey's door and u were both passed out and pantless.
You ran away and I found you three blocks later lying by a dumpster because "that's where your life belongs"
i am making flyers for the homeless letting them know about free chipolte day
I feel like you just avenged me for every guy who came in my hair
The fact that I found him in his Ninja Turtles t-shirt next to six empty and obviously consumed packs of EasyMac watching reruns of Becker certainly made telling him that I wanted a divorce so much easier than I had planned.
I may or may not have shit out a layer of my liver after that weekend.
the good news is that i vommed the last of my humanity last night.
welcome to the club.
Jail is not for me. They portion control your meals and I don't really like that.
Neither of us have work tomorrow and we live w/n walking distance. This is your official Sandy booty call. Come rock me like a hurricane.
There's cereal in my underwear. Was I in your apartment at any time last night? That's the only logical explanation for this.
It's getting harder and harder to fake orgasms as I get older.
I apparently pulled his dick out at the bar and started yelling "DICK PICS IN REAL LIFE!"
I can now say I know getting hit in the face with a flying tortilla is not fun
I hate college football. It's really fucking with our phone sex schedule.
If I had an Australian accent I'd be unstoppable. Teach me how you talk
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