Sorry I totally forgot to text you back. When you texted me I was at work at the pharmacy and it was stupid busy. And then of course I had my 8 hour "shoot me b/c half of Loyola comes in to buy plan B" shift.
he needs to stop telling all his friends what my queefs sound like. its getting awkward to be around people who can quote my vagina.
I got a chicken sandwich and a frosty out of her. Better then having sex
he emptied an entire bag of goldfish onto the bed and rolled around yelling the theme to jaws trying to eat them
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
I cant believe you went home with her.. Your poor immune system and the shit you put it through.
I need to stop smoking. I just talked to corn.
So are you still down for me to come stay with you and just have sex on vicodin all weekend?
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This is why I can't have Wednesdays.... Or adult decisions.
It's a delicate game of how much porn can I look at without the other interns noticing.
WHO THE FUCK PEED IN MY BONG
I was gonna respond but i couldnt figure out a way to rearrange 'fuck his brains out' to sound grammatically correct
Every time I'm hungover I just want to watch Harry Potter and cry.
And a hot pocket after we fucked. Heaven.
Or is it distressingly heterosexual?
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