your room smells of hookers.
And success
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.
FUCK TREES I CLIMB BUOYS MOTHERFUCKER
STOP listening to that song
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
Ive seen teh same guy pissing in the corner. Twice. Its eally weird. My frieds gonna do th funnel. Im so excited for her! Love, cori. Cuz its lik a diary.
Please. Last time I saw him I awkwardly pulled his rat tail until it got too weird
His thanks his mom for not having an abortion at his wedding toast. I love frat weddings.
No. I'm too high for this. I gotta focus my mind for my future Hooter's interview
He professed his love for me while I danced on a picnic table with a bottle of Absolut. I said thank you and walked away.
He's moaning and crying and coughing up something audibly liquid. I can't live in this house any more.
Next Halloween I want us to dress up as jockeys, get drunk, and ride a carousel all night until we throw up or declare a winner
Drunk yet?
Well I just did the worm on an empty dance floor while the bridesmaids were serving cake. You tell me.
I kid you not. He let me in into his house, showed me the putt putt in his backyard. Offered to play me.
It took me an hour to walk from my drive way to my front door... what the fuck was in that weed?
I'M GOING TO DIE ALONE WITHOUT ANYONE PRETENDING TO BE A MARRIED COUPLE WHILE DRUNK AT A MALL WITH ME
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