I want to sit with someone at 3 am and talk. Like really talk. I want you to tell me what keeps you up at night, that dream you keep having, what certain songs make you feel like, what you think happens after death. Talk to me about your family and your dreams.
Baked some iPhone cookies to trick cops into pulling me over, then I just take a bite and ask if cookies are against the law.
I’m the bad guy.
is michael cera even a real person?
This post when its on my dash again and again
"What are you twelve"
Yeah on a scale of one to ten bye
A true gentleman holds the door for his woman, then he smacks her ass.