Cold hands, warm shart.
Let's make love on the newspapers that declare financial doomsday
I fucking love fucking science majors-- she told me that she wanted to know if her gag reflex got better or worse with alcohol, and that her initial evidence had been inconclusive. So, next few weeks, yeah, gettin blown periodically. All I have to do is keep a log.
I sat alone in Buffalo Wild Wings eating chocolate cake on Country Western karoake night. The waiter asked me if I was ok. Twice.
I just want you to know that i just realized your the only friend i dont feel fat around.
Lets just fuck. We'll decide if it was makeup or breakup sex after.
I legit just said "vaginal access denied" then told him his password hint was "tequila shots"
It's a given that you're going to get peed on at a country concert
You don't understand. If you watched a video of the shenanigans that occurred in my life over the past 48 hours you would gasp worse than the girl who witnessed me puking in my bag at the children's hospital
I woke up on his couch and my bra was flung across the floor and filled with animal crackers
His penis looked like how I would imagine Satan's pinky finger.
They started shooting fireworks out of a dryer. It was my cue to leave.
I got really adventurous too. Like. Balls in the mouth adventurous.
Like pizza and mermaids make up about 1/3 of my thoughts on the weekends.
Watching South Park, doing sit-ups and drinking tequila. In other words, my night is going pretty good.
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