I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
i just traded a sweatshirt for margaritas... why did they ever stop using the barter system??!!
the only thing coherent you said from what i saw of you is when you were throwing up, i asked if you were done and you just "uh huh you know what it is"
Just coerced a Santa to buy me a handle. Tis the season.
You pulled down your pants, pissed in the recliner, and wiped yourself with my utility bill. I thought it was in the worlds best interest to put you to bed.
All I could think of during that funeral was how great I look in a suit, how creepy catholics are, and how horny I am.
It was like a Thanksgiving meal, which you spend 8 hours cooking, and the family wolfs down in 20 minutes. All that flirting and build-up for like 90 seconds of pumping and he was gone in a flash, never to be heard from again.
we didnt plan anything. just randomly met up in the park, both reached into our pockets and each lit up a joint without exchanging words. we're telepathic potheads.
Next time I feel awkward in a situation I'm going to just yell "free bird!!!!" Like some redneck at lynyrd skynyrd show
He follows more cats on Instagram then he does girls.. That's how you know your boyfriend is whipped.
Ah. Hot spring. Infinitely less skeevy than a hot tub. These North Carolinian dudes are all class.
I mean I just feel if I'm not being fat and lazy then I'm not really being myself
Thank you. I woke up with a beard hair in my mouth. Super classy.
He wants to buy me a wedding ring and pretend to be married to someone else when we fuck. It actually makes me wet thinking about it.
I had more orgasms than hours of sleep this weekend. I’m going to keep him around a while
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