We got drunk before dinner. People at the other tables were praying for us.
im contemplating emailing my dad and telling him how worthless i am and how sorry i am that he pays for my life...aka my bar tabs.
No more tipping the bathroom attendant with your phone.
No, we have matured. We've stopped having sex in front if his room mate.
Just sponge bathed with a swissper. Thrush inevitable. Shaking.
the whole story woulnd't be so depressing if i had made out with ANYONE but the piano player.
All you have to do is speak. Your voice reverberates strait to my vagina.
official rule: if your drunk, it doesn't count
then nothing in my life counts
Oh god. I asked to "play his sexaphone" which I though was a super sex way to say "let me blow you". He fucking walked home at 4:30am
TONGUES ARE JUST MEAT TENTACLES IN OUR MOUTHS OMG
HOW ABOUT I DON'T WAKE UP TO THESE TYPES OF TEXTS
I call it a party but only because that sounds better than 8 people getting drunk around a pool.
Ok, so technically yes she wore a red tank top to the stoplight party. But under it was a yellow bra and green panties.
it's the amount of time you spend on preventing me from puking that really cements this friendship
If I die tonight somebody's going to have to let all my tinder matches know.
Tonight I researched being a phone sex operator and teaching English at a French school in Africa. I think my future lacks direction
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