This is a mass text. Does anyone know where I am?
you should be back in the room by now but just so you know. you passed out at the black jack table and they wheel chaired you out. strip club in about 45 minutes. game face bro.
i promise the blood crusted on your tits is from him motorboating you after he tripped into the pool stick. nothing else.
You don't have a penis so I'm not texting you at this hour. This is penis texting hour only.
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I'm eating crumbled blue cheese out of Tubbaware. My life is nothing.
I went back to the party but by then they were all sitting on the floor in the dark listening to we are the champions on full blast.
My gyno overestimated by 3 TIMES the amount of sex we have per week. First of all, he must think I'm a freak. Secondly, I think we should catch up.
If we can't get laid at a bar crawl, we should just quit life.
Fun thought: I realized the thing I miss most about him is dixie kong's double trouble on his super Nintendo. It's possible that I don't have a soul.
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Sext: Bring me pancakes from the midnight breakfast gathering please
I was gonna respond but i couldnt figure out a way to rearrange 'fuck his brains out' to sound grammatically correct
I just want a relatively mentally stable guy with tattoos and facial hair that loves Captain America as much as I do and will fuck me the way I deserve to be fucked, is that too much to ask for?
If you're not my stylist, having sex with me, or agreeing to have sex with me don't fucking touch my hair.
Just by hearing the girl outside reciting the info on her fake ID, I know it's gonna be a good night
If the people you’re with use the word tequila in a sentence with phrases like hair of the dog or breakfast of champions...run awsy
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