He can't get past my hymen. At least that's what he said it feels like.
The highlight of my Saturday night was singing along to the sound of music alone in my room.
whats wrong with me. i have a coffee mug of wine in the library and i'm doing homework
He kept calling my vagina a magic clam, and it was speaking to him, telling him to feed it his penis. I played along.
That little tingle vodka gives me in my esphagus is what lets me know I'm still alive.
I'm just going to text him the word sex repeatedly until he comes over.
Did it work?
Duh, it only took 27 texts and 15 minutes and he was at my front door.
It was going alright when lo and behold Tom the cock blocking tornado hits. He is the only man I know who doesn't want anyone to fuck girls.
Well, my eyeball is red and the rest of my eye is black. Oh the joys of drinking with u. PS- I laid in a pile of sawdust. it was ok at the time.
turns out it took a Belgian couchsurfer dressed as Heisenberg to rock my world.
So is that the only criterion for shenanigans now? Don't die?
Just took physics exam. I think this is one of those 'chuck it in the fuck-it bucket and become an art major' days
That's not "anything", that's you deep throating a mozzarella stick.
Woke up in a fanny pack with a bag of cocaine on my cheek
Per my usual Thursday, I blacked out and slept on the stairs.
where are you guys?
stoned at his house watching water boil
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