I don't know what's more sad: The fact that he fingered the side of my leg, or the fact that the side of my leg feels like a vagina.
this is the last time we take the mathletes drinking.
I'm too afraid that I'm 1. Banned or 2. Gonna be noticed by the lady bouncer I punched.
we should look into getting a golf cart for the weekend. i have a feeling legs wont be a sufficient source of transportation.
He's a forty-something balding gay man with no boundaries or sense of social norms. Of course we should befriend him.
I just remember her dragging me inside in a panic saying we needed mentos and popcorn I have no fucking clue how we ended up asleep in her closet.
Why is there uncooked bacon under my bed?
You insisted on taking it to bed with you. You grabbed it out of the fridge while mumbling "If I leave this out, you fuckers are just going to ruin it."
Everyone heard you having sex but I just told them you were having a nightmare.
I mean I'm not gay but a hundred bucks is a hundred bucks
BUT YOU MUST FINISH YOUR QUEST
TO FIND THE HOLY GRAIL
AND GET DRUNK OFF YOUR ASS BY DRINKING OUT OF IT
I know how vodka works Grace. I'm drunk, not stupid.
Got home and told boyfriend what happened. He was like "you made out with a guy you call Balls Deep?" and hi-fived me.
I gave you chlamydia, you gave me a concussion. Now we're even.
I had no plans to sleep with him, but he had to stay because of the snow. I always say, don't look a gift storm in the mouth.
Let's get this straight. I am six fucking feet tall. Do you even understand how limited my options in guys to date are? No. Did you see my last three boyfriends? I looked like a fucking giant next to them. So I will fuck this six-foot-seven Italian model even if I am the ugliest girl at this party because, goddammit, I deserve to.
Randomize
