no, its his 'welcome back from rehab' party.
there's nothing like watching the sun rise at the library alone on a friday morning to make you want to kill yourself.
If we have to be apart I understand. Being separated is probably best for our relationship now. I look forward to our booty calls.
Well, at least he doesn't refer to you as his associate. his mattress associate
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I am getting drunk. And i'm going to paint my face and slide down the stairs like Pochahontas. Goodbye
Or maybe my penis is just the key to their locked boxes of crazy, and I unleash their wrath upon all of mankind just so I can get my nut off
He was like Sweeney Todd... But, without the killing people part.
So... He's a barber?
No. He's got crazy hair, and a revenge fetish. But he's hot. Does that make up for it?
I should have been on a postcard. I was sitting in the middle of the forest with a plate full of pot brownies and missing you.
I was at the pharmacy picking up my herpes medication and the pharmacist asked if I had any questions about my medicine, looked at the bottle, and laughed. Insult to injury man.
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He was asleep with his head on a windowsill and you were petting his head, then you almost left the kitchen and then went back to pet him some more.
I told my manager I was trying to conserve my energy for date night/Sexual Olympics later. That's legit for another break, right?
You yell at me for being attracted to older guys and you're over here condoning murder
The last thing I remember before blacking out was passing that sobriety test.
She acted like falling "up" the stairs was a fucking physics phenomenon. I call that Tuesday nights.
When he busted out the ketchup I got the hell out of there. It got really creepy really fast.
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