You know the guy who poops at a party and then leaves and you go in, do your business, and come out and there are girls outside that think you pooped and no one talks to you? I'm the guy who poops before you go in, because I'm in a relationship and I hate you.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
My body isn't even mad at me...just disappointed
I don't have the urge to be a home-wrecker with these two. I think I've grown, don't you?
That was the gentlest I've ever been bitten in the face by a dog
Congratulations, you have helped solved the mysterious disapperance of Dani's phone which was found in the munchies cabinet next to the oreos. Your reward is star power as well as a fat ass bowl of Nebula. You may proceed through the wardrobe and into Narnia for your prize.
I approve. Last time I was there, I left E's room to get a drink of water. Found M sitting on the kitchen counter in his boxers hammered and eating a banana. He proceeded to feed me the rest of his banana then went to bed with the lights on. You two will be great.
I like how our relationship transcends the borders of inappropriateness and encompasses all the colors of the inappropriate rainbow.
I can't believe he just friend zoned me like that.
Dude, you're not even gay.
My dry spell starts kindergarten this fall...
They grow up so fast.
Like I don't care that he's a drug dealer, but I have a problem with his inefficient and ineffective business model.
My boobs are hoarders, they steal food and hide it. Greedy bitches.
Ah, Christ. I just saw a D lister I made out with once on a Rock Of Love rerun. Why are you asleep right now? Some weird shit is happening.
If walking through the neighborhood with a bottle of tequila and margarita mix is postgrad life, I'm okay with it
He put your tit in his mouth. Professionalism is out the window after that.
okay valid
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