she said i have a nice penis, i told her only bob saget and god could judge that.
We were so bored at work tonight that we were in dry storage taking turns pouring the boxed wine we use for cooking into each others' mouths. I think I'm starting to understand the "problem" aspect of "drinking problem."
you need to do more things constructive for your career. like wearing pants more often.
...there is blood under my fingernails.
...I hope my roomates are okay.
The worst mistakes make the best memories. Write that down.
I was just counting ceiling tiles when he ate me out, it was that bad.
literally. a puddle of blood. on the floor. still searching for the source
I have to think about this realistically and not with my vagina.
I legit just said "vaginal access denied" then told him his password hint was "tequila shots"
I may or may not have traded your body to the rodeo's owner for free beer.
I'm laying in bed listening to Purple Rain on repeat. If you wanna bone, come up, but if not, at least Prince understands me.
note: just because the casino is called bourbon street, it doesn't mean you can puke and keep walking and no one will care. chalk me up for another 86
I need to immerse myself in a tub of peroxide to kill whatever traces of him are on me.
He's ready to settle down, whereas I'm like "More shots please"
I can't decide if I miss drinking or you, they are so closely connected.
Randomize
