I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
I feel like my whole life has been one big pre-game for Mexico.
It's like my work doesn't even care about margarita mondays.
Never again will we have slut saturday. Never.
Its name is Richard. And I think he formally introduced us.
I did shrooms last night. My drug checklist is complete, I can finally graduate.
Well, it's either jungle juice or memory of the night... It's unfortunate I can't have both
Honestly you'd think more guys would be happy to date a cute female dealer, but apparently something about safety or whatever
Your brother's naked in the courtyard again. Just a head's up.
I am descending into that finals week rage fueled by ramen, mountain dew and bad sex is what's up.
My stuff that was at your place last night smells like doughnuts. I'm not even mad.
I'm chasing my vodka with snickers.
Also, for real, though? Did we even have sex or were we just jumping on the bed drunk and naked...because with me that's actually a possibility.
I like to listen to classical music when I eat taco bell. I think it cancels out the aura of poverty and desperation.
I will be wearing a suit out more cuz it has been decided i rage harder with a power tie
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