Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
You better be coming back...your date is passed out in a shrub in my backyard and I'm pretty sure her shirt is on my kitchen floor
You were crying and asking his mom "why doesn't he like road head?"
Apparently you can talk a girl into leaving the bar and coming back to your tent, who knew?
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It's just my hair. It brings natural happiness. Like goldfish, big boobs, and milkshakes.
Ughhhh. Finnnneeeeee. I'll have sex with your brother. Sheesh. The things I do for you woman.
Fucking someone because they own a lava lamp is like fucking someone because they have 20 dollars and no concern for their house burning down.
She's on her way over to shave my year round sweater vest into a festive argyle sweater vest. Keeper?
Because it's not worth it. And there is no nice way of saying "sorry, you're not good enough at sex for me to drive 45 mins"
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See this is where I mess up.. I get distracted by the option of consistent sex and free beer
This hangover is what we deserve after that level of debauchery.
I like to listen to classical music when I eat taco bell. I think it cancels out the aura of poverty and desperation.
is it still the walk of shame if his dad gave me a 'thanks for sleeping with my son' head nod on my way out this morning?
Hey, I'm sleeping in your car...lol just knock on the window in the morning
I think I recall josh coming in to the room to tuck us in and give us a few condoms and I threw them back all furious and told him 'we don't use those.' Oh god
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