so, on facebook you can become a fan of butt sex, and also premarital sex, but not premarital butt sex, which is what I was aiming for.
Unless you watched your mom's very literal rendition of "I touch myself" while she was wearing a bikini, your vacation wasn't as bad as mine.
I don't know how it happened, one minute we were talking about Huck Finn, the next minute I was blowing him behind the corner of his apartment building.
We decided to go to McDs, but we only had a few minutes to make it to breakfast. We were sprinting full speed ahead when she tripped and you just yelled 'LEAVE HER' and kept your course.
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Disregard that. She just puked into her boot and started screaming.
I woke up covered in sausage cart mustard and champagne
Also, my drunkenly packed sleepover kit consisted of a singular sock, my uncharged laptop, and a pack of post-it notes.
But he's not just anonymous male genitalia anymore. I've met him, I've seen his face.
He rubbed my back afterwards. I forgot how to talk and I legitimately thought I was a cat for a few minutes.
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She just walked up to him and was like "you should fuck Angela" and it worked! She is the ultimate wingman
But we only had three ninja turtles. So everyone that would ask us where Donatello was, we would say "what? He's gone? Shredder is at it again!"
Trying not to ruin Mother's Day with the enormous hickey on my neck. Nice.
You know it's really hard to draft fantasy football players in a crowded bar when I have a raging hard on
I continue to impress myself. Also I'm probably pregnant
So apparently I tried texting you last night to tell you I wasn't coming home, but all I had typed were lyrics from Evita
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