tell her no need for introductions. and that you've read about her on the back of toilet doors.
I think we should urban dictionary "drive of shame." It involves a sprint to your car in his underwear and shirt, surreptitiously trying to put on your bra on at stoplights without attracting attention from neighboring cars, and lurking in your car a block from home so you can know when your roommate leaves for work.
my life trainwreck boards at 9:30
In other news I saw a pack of make believe zombies walking down green st.
gotta love wednesdays
Dude its so hot it my room I can't jack off. Its gonna be a long summer.
We made a water bong out of a wine bottle... Being an architect major finally payed off.
I have your car and your sandals. My shoes are somewhere under the puke couch. Safari time.
PLAN B IS EXPENSIVE ON A $50 A WEEK BUDGET.
I'm so annoyed. We're about to buy groceries for the week and at this point I'm hoping to sustain myself on pure alcohol.
Did you leave ur panties in the sink?
Kitchen or bathroom?
She deliberately backed into the homewrecker's whoremobile and yelled ""FOR SPARTA!"
I just masturbated to the thought of him straight up talking to me. to us having a conversation. What the hell.
Thank you for trusting your ovaries to me
Went home with a guy last night with Taco Bell sauce in my hair and on my pants
Remind me to tell you: When threeways go awry, my MLK weekend story.
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