Things I Wish I Could Write On Your Facebook Wall
Hey babe! Remember when we lost our virginities to each other? And I licked your balls and ass and whatever else I could lick on your body? I think you even peed on me once in the shower. Anyway, just wanted to say that I love the new profile pic! Let’s do lunch sometime soon! xx
WHAT’S UP?! I was just thinking about the time we were best friends for eight years until we had a terrible falling out. We saw each other through everything: break ups, sickness, and loss, and now I just get to know when you’re checking in to places on FourSquare. Ain’t life a cruel bitch? I would say “Let’s do lunch!” but let’s be real: that’d be one depressing lunch.
Who are you? Did we do coke together once in college?
You have a small penis.
You have a big penis.
I would LOVE to see your penis someday.
“OMG, I love when you post pictures of the food you made for dinner!” — Things No One Thinks When They Look At Your Facebook Photos
We don’t know each other. I just added you because I heard you were a trainwreck and your status updates were AMAZING. Please don’t disappoint.
You’re my best friend’s uncle. Why the hell did you friend request me? More importantly, why did I accept?
I am envious of your career and overall life. Your status updates make me want to die a little bit.
OH HAI, BEST FRIEND FROM 2ND GRADE. You got fat.
You’ve been ignoring my texts for three weeks which means you probably don’t like me. That’s fine, I totally get it. I just think your Facebook friends deserve to know that you’re a person who doesn’t return texts. Did you get that, Facebook friends? Is this thing on?
I don’t really know you but I really appreciate that one night you took care of me when I was vomiting. You seem like a really good person.
You were a terrible roommate. You always clogged the toilet and left strands of your hair everywhere. YOU OWE ME $350, BITCH!
I thought I deleted you. HOW DID YOU GET BACK IN HERE?
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Allow yourself to mourn the loss of love, and heal from those wounds. Don’t run into the arms of another lover, you will not find peace there: you will only accumulate more to heal from.
Prior to September 15, 1983, buying items in bulk made you look like either a criminal suspect or an obsessive hoarder.
Small acts of love are hard to execute when distance is put between two people, but that doesn’t mean they should stop.
I’m homesick, homesick for California and for Texas and for all the places I have lived. How do you split your soul evenly among so many cities?