My T9 text prediction thing keeps predicting every next word is going to be "midgets".
Sundays have taken on a whole new meaning when I'm not in bed with an excruciating hangover.
Let's get back to talking about you giving me a blow job.
Valium party in the driveway. Attendance: 1. Don't make me do this alone.
2nd night home for break and we had to call the fire department to keep the house from burning down. At this rate I'll be lucky to see you next semester.
Kinda sad when you get home on a Sunday morning and the paper guy HAND DELIVERS the newspaper to you...,
You got called a pussy at a party with a slow cooker, you can't let that shit slide
Can't. Busy recovering from the worst pulled muscle of my life that I got either from excessively acrobatic boning or carrying a huge fucking ice luge down the street while wearing 4 inch heels
In other news my cocaine dealer got arrested for heaving some kid out of a fourth story window.
Seriously, I woke you up with tacos, I think I deserve the best girlfriend ever award
It's amazing
I want to run hundreds of miles and do a whole semesters worth of homework while flying on a unicorn and throwing endless glitter bombs
When I was sick she came over with Call of Duty, animal crackers and a handjob. Honor says I can't dump her until Easter
She told me having sex was our civic duty. How can I not love her?
Let's celebrate our country being screwed by screwing.
I'm seeing how far I can grow my leg hair out before Jason will say anything. I'm up to an inch
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