Man, my girl is one tough chick when she wants to be. I wonder if it has something to do with those
big, comfy granny panties she’s got on.

You’re not the only one in this relationship who loves a
challenge,” he says. “And just so you know for the future, I like my double-chocolate chip
cookies warm and soft in the middle . . . and without magnets glued to them.

I let it all out--my mom's date,my dad's conversation,my confusion about it all.Caleb doesn't laugh,he doesn't pull away,he doesn't talk .. He just lets me be me.

When I settle down,I lean back and witness the mess I've made on his shirt."I made ur shirt all gross," I say between sniffles.

"Forget the shirt.What's going on? I could.nt understand a word you mumbled into my chest." Now I'm half laughing and half crying.

Being told when to shit, shower, shave, eat, and sleep isn't my idea of paradise. But then again, Paradise, where i grew up, wasn't paradise either. I'm wondering if paradise is just some word in the dictionary with the definition: this doesn't fucking exist.
--Caleb to himself

And my piece of advice is...don't flirt with any of the female instructors. They all have access to weapons bigger than yours.

Okay, seriously, I dont know if this is true or not, but I heard people who use profanity are trying to compensate for their lack of you know... size" -Tuck