So some guy at the party is convinced I'm Edward Cullen. He keeps calling me "Twilight" and following me around with a stake. I'm concerned.
No. Especially when my uncle started stripping. Too many shots. So that's where I get that from.
I think I need to stop sleeping with him. Sex with him is just a reminder of the mediocrity of the rest of my life.
There is a mirror in the headboard of the bed that I'm sleeping in so I can immediately question life choices when I wake up.
2048oz a keg...divide that by solo cup... comes out to 128 beers...simplifies into 5.3repeating cases...drinkable between two people
and u failed math?
That's the saddest description of touching yourself I've heard since someone said "I was just lazily rubbing my clitoris while eating Cheetos alone"
Both our collective sex appeal dies once someone cums on a snuggie kayla
You're a five foot adderall and caffeine fueled ball of sexual frustration and suppressed rage. It's only a matter of time before you snap. We're taking bets on when.
But for real, I had the best sex of my life on that bunk bed
And then I discovered that while drunk last night I called the NAACP and left an angry voicemail demanding they fix the racism at my school
I noticed while having sex on Friday that I have great endurance. CrossFit works.
Next time you decide to go downstairs hungover, please warn me. I now have to explain to twenty eight year olds why you were naked.
My mind doesn't wanna day drink but my heart does.
You know you've been on Tinder too long when you're the guy cropped out of the profile pic. Of a woman you're still seeing...
Remember how slutty I thought she was when we were freshmen?
Yeah! But that was a long time ago. Plus, you use your sluttiness for good!
Randomize
