You know you're true friends when you can talk about what sexual diseases you may or may not have.
My roommate got wasted last night and went to the 24 hour Bally's Total Fitness at 3 A.M. He got back took his shirt off, made a protein shake, puked, asked me if he was almost as jacked as Ronnie Coleman then called ME gay before I could say anything and went to bed
dont like to call her my roomate, too cordial. i refer to her as the whore that was assigned to live with me
If it was designed to hold water, it was designer to hold wine
He's yummy.
HE'S GAY. AND 40.
Irrelevant.
Everything smells like blood and olive oil.
I feel like a cloud. A cloud that wants to be laid.
I may have just made our entire microwave glow green. Like big green. Like spark and make me shit green.
Like worse than the time I blew up the microwave with the egg green.
New low reached: a cockroach has actually drowned itself in our dirty dishes. We are heathens. Cleaning dance party tonight. No excuses.
We're exchanging our favorite porn sites at 9 am. I think this brings our relationship to a whole new level
Stop it with the monkey emojis. It's like sexting with Curious George
Bottom line; if I'm coming out of my bat cave to do the dishes and get a chicken wing and I have no pants or makeup on and my messy bun looks more like Santa got leprosy and crashed his sled into the back of my head then let me be. That's all I'm saying.
For some reason she gave me a handjob. It was all very confusing
Just asphyxiate me and toss my corpse in the Ocean. It'll be easier than whatever the next four or eight years will bring.
I got home and he was wearing a suit. He said he reason was because it was shirt and tie Saturday and that he won't change until midnight. He then proceeded to answer the door in a British accent.
Randomize
