So... on the count of three, we are going to forget last night ever happened... 1...2...3
i think i traded my wallet for a tim hortons gift card.
I don't know which part of you thought this was funny but it's fucked up to wake up in that much fluff and now we don't have a couch. Fuck you.
he pulled a $400 bottle of champagne out of the back part of his toiled and I was ready to blow him then and there
I masterbate to the thought of you. You totally aren't just a booty call.
All I want is a camelback full of Jameson and the weather to be cool enough for me to wear rainbow spandex. Ugh. Pride problems.
I think the solution to your phobia is an open relationship with your dildo. about the same responsibility as a pet rock
Also, I'm going to TRY and be casual this weekend, but really, we need to be serious about equally dividing our time between party and bullshit.
PROFESSOR JUST TOOK A SHOT WITH US BEFORE CLASS. WELCOME TO THE LAST DAY OF FINALS.
I just had sex over my oven then high fived the guy. It's going to be a good year.
He went out to smoke and when he came back I was still in the same spot naked and unable to breathe.
All I could say was, "ladies and gentlemen, THIS is why I drive 30 mins"
If you bet guys that you can drink them under the table they will pay for your drinks all night until they pass out. I have this down to a science that I think even my dad would appreciate.
So, no matter what happens today, hold on to this. At least you're not naked under your ex husband's trench coat being stopped by the police who also work with your ex husband. Long story. Actually, not a long story. That's it.
I was supremely disappointed in the lack of dick and doughnuts in my life last week.
I did a line off of, and then danced on top of a table older than this country.
Harvard is great.
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