Who would have guessed that ordering a vodka lemonade at Roscoe's was code for I want a hand job
I tried to pay my bar tab with my gym membership card. Twice.
well it doesn't count as a walk of shame if he drops you off at your class in his golf cart
he drove an hour to get eggs with me not even a blow job, just eggs.
You went from loaded cattleman, to football player, to better football player, to art major from Missouri. Your future was looking so good for a while.
We ran out of wine so we are trying the absinthe you brought over from Spain like 3 years ago. Please call me at noon tomorrow. If we die, its your fault
I think I reached some stage of aging, have a sore/injured shoulder from sex, next up carpal tunnel from sexting.
You should hear the lecture my mom just gave me about cooking pizzas when im drunk because "I could have died".
He's in the same dorm as me. We are sharing a laundry room, gym, and cafeteria. I'VE ALREADY COMMITTED DORMCEST AND MOVE-IN DAY ISN'T UNTILL NEXT WEEK!!!!
That pizza at 1 am literally tasted like I was eating an angel
If he can't cook well I'm just gonna buy a RealDoll and twenty cats and live my own fucking life
MDMA IS GREAT AND YOU WERE THE WORST GIRLFRIEND EVER.
We sexted for four hours straight. Is this really what my life has come to?
He referred to our sex as "an Olympic event." My tits are bruised.
He was someone so memorable that I'd completely forgotten he'd existed up to and during the encounter
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