My mother's day gift to my mother is to promise never to tell her 95% of the stories I've accumulated in my life.
Eventually the creepy theater major quirks will come out. Probably in bed. Like role playing as the Phantom of the Opera
We carried on a casual conversation about plants while I gave him a hand job.
Upon further investigation it turns out it wasn't blood, but chocolate frosting from the cupcake I shoved in my pocket to "save for later"
Thanks, college. Tonight's decisions brought to you by margs in a nalgene.
I forgot if I was chewing my gum or my tongue
Ive seen him cuddling a giant inflatable seahorse. Nothing could be creepier than that.
And is it bad that I haven't talked to guys who I haven't already dated? I feel like a recycle bin.
She's crying about either her ex boyfriend, her one night stand, or her own puke. None of those is worth the tears.
THIS CHICK IS LIKE SOME SORT OF HOOKER HOUDINI.
All I know is I got on a table at late night and sang gotta go my own way
All I'm sayin is that I don't want to raise anything. Or deal with anything. Or having anything come out of my vagina. I mean, I don't think that's asking too much.
You were so stoked after landing that flip that you dropped acid with three random guys without hesitation
Nice. I like it when Maker's Mark makes decisions for you.
Obviously you're feeling a little sexually frustrated.
I consider humping a stranger every ten minutes when I walk in the street.
Randomize
