After he proceded to violently molest my tits until 9 am i snuck out of his room only to meet his mother downstairs, who informed me she heard the giant sexfest going on in the room next to them.. this was before she called us both "chickenshits".. worst walk of shame ever.
the women in the ladies room did not appreciate my innovation of turning a sink into a urinal
we were canoeing in the lake and i asked if he was too drunk for this, and he said "don't worry about it, i'm half native american"
i can't sleep with him. he has a scrapbook from the girl he lost his virginity to.
Ya I got a cut on my head from the toilet seat last time I drank there.
I may be new to bar life, but full on grabbing my vag shouldn't happen...anywhere.
As if me making pizza in a skillet wasn't enough proof that I was in no state to be cooking, this burn blister on my hand is
Crying in the liquor store is not a good look
WE COULD TOTALLY DO ECSTASY AND GO TO THAT CAT SHELTER OFF OF BROADWAY.
I know it I should, but it's kinda nice. It's smells like unbridled enthusiasm and copious amounts of melt your face off sex.
So. I need to gloat. I couldn't exactly tell my family that I won this game by deep throating.
I was picked up from his hotel room at 5 a.m. and came home with my panties and jäger in a McDonald's bag so the desk attendant wouldn't judge me. This is what single at 25 is about.
I've finally given up enough on finals week to wear the same shirt three days in a row, because I didn't take my hoodie off for the first two.
I shit like a lady though so that rarely happens
My mind doesn't wanna day drink but my heart does.
Randomize
