...there is blood under my fingernails.
...I hope my roomates are okay.
There's been so much talk around your vagina it's like a local celebrity
that bitch in the red sedan is still teasing me with the ice cream cone. i'm going to show her my dick
I should start printing out disclaimer handouts and passing them out to people saying, "I can not be held responsible for anything I say or do this evening."
I wouldn't be surprised. You and I have basically synced up our brain chemistry by doing drugs together in the same way that two girls would sync their menstrual cycles by sharing a house.
Dude. Yeah. This is a game changer. I feel dirty and possibly pregnant and it hasn't happened yet.
I had lunch with him today and quietly mourned his wasted good looks on such a disappointing set of genitals.
I'm high. Everything has a 45° angle. That is as far as my eyes open
Dude when the cops came you ran through the fence. Fucking THROUGH it. You're a master ditcher.
I think there's an ice cream truck out back, but there's no way I can get pants on in time to catch it
I'm not sure I can continue to condone our having sex in all of your friends' beds
Stop calling him just to say, "my vagina misses you."
Last night at a party someone grabbed my ass so I just fucking punched them in the face then went home and ate a frozen pizza
He drove over an hour to get this shit done. I guess i win the golden vagina award tonight
Because, after all, nothing quite says life in 2020 than doing laundry at 9:40 on a Friday morning to make sure you have masks and underwear.
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