i think 'regret' was last night's theme. i could taste it in my mouth and woke up next to it.
it was better than the time i puked and I forgot to open the lid of the toilet
I puked for half an hour, but I went and danced afterwards, and that made me feel better.
You are so irish.
He was such a tease, he pulled out his dick, let me touch it then put it away
I've started grabbing my boobs in front of my lesbian philosophy professor so she'll give me a better grade. It's working...
I met her tumbling down the stairs chugging Captain Morgan. I'm not sure why she has the better reputation either.
I feel more comfortable going down on her then actually kissing her.
You left me with no money to have random Chicago sex. The least you can do is pick me up an egg mcmuffin on your walk of shame back to the hotel.
But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
You won't wear your Santa suit, I can't get trashed, and you won't use handcuffs! This is the worst Christmas EVER.
"I'm in the bathroom. Only place I can sit and relax without that girl trying to give me a lap dance."
I would just like to point out that a bandaid led to sex. The lesson here is always have a bandaid in your wallet.
It would be weird sobbing cry sex.
Also I'd apologize for texting you flipping my shit about the science of hair growth while I was shrooming last night but we know each other better than that
excused from jury duty. THAT hungover...
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