the Monday before Thanksgiving is not a Monday at all. Just Thursday in Monday suit.
your mascara is on the toilet seat from when you fell asleep last night
I have to have sex with him again. I feel like I need to train him so no other girl experiences that bad of sex.
Its 4 am and he honestly tried throwing pizza at his ceiling for decorations
you do realize that we pretended we were worms for like 10 minutes and inched around on the ground, don't you?
Until this weekend, a man hadn't made me orgasm since the night Obama was elected. Now THAT is change I can believe in.
Tequila pump. I'm ecstatic your engineering degree has real world application.
I know I've wanted to fuck him for the past month, but when you're that hungover, the only chemistry you have is with a pillow and a gallon of water.
Naw. I'm tired and I'd have to shave my legs. I doubt the sex or the company would be worth it.
He was "hot guy in the dark". One of us had to sleep with him. I took the bullet you're welcome.
You came into my room and started rubbing a banana on your face.
Moral of the story: next time my plans include you and bourbon, I'm packing a toothbrush.
I'M GOING TO FUCK AN ENTIRE ORCHESTRA AND NOTHING CAN STOP ME
The band club does not count as an orchestra
You know you suck at relationships when you are sitting in the airport on Christmas day, alone, swiping on Tinder.
How much of a thot would I be if I put this pic up? On a scale of thot-ish to Queen of Thotlandia
Randomize
