You need to stop texting me at SEVEN in the morning. It wakes my one night stands up and makes for the awkward talk way too early.
Saw a pregnant woman get a lap dance last night. I love the south.
you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
so i just calculated it and i would need to score 150% on this final to pass
Ive never seen him vulnerable before. He just had surgery and looked so cute on his crutches. like a little baby bird with a broken wing. that i wanted to nurse back to health. with my vagina
Then you jumped in the pool because your were convinced the scratches on your neck from the cat were gills and you could breathe underwater.
You came over, called every girl Comrade Heather, and then declared that you were an Eagle, and we were your young.
So all in all, a good night.
They're fucking on the bed next to me. I took adderall and smoked so there's no fucking help for me.
The struggles of a small town man whore
I'm definitely closer to having sex in every building on campus than I am to having a post-graduation career/plan/future. Unless that future is getting fucked in lots of buildings. I got that shit on lock down.
To me, you're the Patron Saint of good music and handjobs
I need to you to send me drugs via FedEx
Guy from the bar last night left his number on my waterbill on the counter, at the bottom he put don't forget I can hook you up at Little Caesars I work their part time.
You sure know how to pick em.
I. Love. Skype. Sex.
I think it's just been too long since actual dick has been inside you that you only THINK you love skype sex
Welcome aboard the S.S. struggle. I'll be your captain for today's voyage and Jeremy is your first mate. Just sit back and relax while we navigate the seas of drunken regret. Your forecast for the day is violently hungover with a chance of "shit, that really did happen!"
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