He's the biggest piece of shit to ever exist. He's not even wearing shoes.
They were so loud I wrote them a sex critique and taped it to his door.
i made it my goal to pee in the sink of every apartment we went to last night. i didnt use the toilet once
I literally have been drunk for three days entirely by myself, the world cup may kill me
i think i just put your shirt on , but i don't remember . my body can't decide if it wants to move in slow motion or fast forward
i woke up this morning next to my toilet covered in an attempt to make blanket of toilet paper
Well, my nose won't stop bleeding from really bad cocaine and my purse is full of plastic gold coins. Also, someone saved in my phone as "tyrannosaurus sex" won't quit texting me. Savannah won. Let's put it that way.
I'm drinking nothing but vodka and coffee for the next 48 hours. For science.
Of course not. I'd be offended if you didn't bring my boobs into casual conversation.
Do you know what the cost code is for strip clubs? I'm filling out my company expense report right now
I'm pretty sure he's playing the harmonica in my shower right now. I just really need to pee.
Yeah. Still not happy that my prof saw a picture of my vag.
meanwhile at my house I found 2 bud heavys in the back of my book shelf crammed between a Franklin book and goodnight moon
Ok thats great. so just to recap: you fucked a billionare in his penthouse last night, and I had a glass of wine on the toilet.
Do thigh high boots and a ball gag count as a costume?
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