I found these at the Center for Creative Reuse. I’ve never been on a swim team, but it seems very rewarding.
(Yesterday was a #6daymodernlovestory Twitterfest. These are my contributions.)
“Your scars make you very appealing.”
She broke in. He fed her.
“Dad owns the Doubletree,” he lied.
Nobody liked them or their dogs.
Two snails=four compatible parts=passion
Anna wanted to marry Jill, did.
The principal warned her about him.
“I’m not bossy, I’m helpful.” “True.”
Neither bicyclist said “On your left.”
“On the Road sucks!” “I KNOW”
Her hair tickled, but he persevered.
She earnestly shaved his ironic moustache.
They boiled all the Christmas ornaments.
“I’m tired.” “Pineapple.” “What?” “You heard.”
He wore a crushed-velvet skirt.
Dollar theater. Made out during Twister.
Two moths wanting the same sleeve.
Him: “Crawdads!” Her: “Try bacon bait.”
They quoted Judge Judy during fights.
He kept unbreaking their breakups. “Why?”
“Don’t reset my FreeCell statistics.” “Oops.”
His dad: “Go upstairs. Learn reflexology.”
“Your eyebrows astound me.” “Shut up!”
First kiss tasted like Mango Snapple.
He’s a 10. She knows math.
Fourteen unopened bills. Shh. It’s okay.
He had thoughts about the wedding.
I like how your head smells.
His mother disapproved. Hers wept, openly.
They brewed kombucha. He almost died.
No one changed the tire. Conception.
Walk the dog. Not a euphemism.
Half-gallon milk–expired, not spoiled.
Too much Chinese food in bed.
I like you with your parents.
Two celebrity lookalikes outside the Oscar’s.
“You complete me.” “Ew.” “I know.”