That was a long time ago. She needed the money.
at the bar. watching boys pee in urinals. when they come out we give them a thumbs up or a thumbs down. probbb shouldn't prop the bathroom door open with a bar stool....
I fucking love fucking science majors-- she told me that she wanted to know if her gag reflex got better or worse with alcohol, and that her initial evidence had been inconclusive. So, next few weeks, yeah, gettin blown periodically. All I have to do is keep a log.
it's like god just wants me to be high for five days in a row. keep the blizzards coming.
Another weekend, another 3 guys I have to awkwardly avoid while crossing campus...
you can SEE the outline of a pad through her jeans. there is no way
high enough to want to lick peanut butter off of Michael Buble's vocal chords as he serenades me.
She stopped mid hookup to ask me if we'd be done before Taco Bell closed.
I have a challenge for you: find out where you are. you will receive Taco Bell if you succeed
ex-cheerleader. ex-gymnast. ex-dancer. i dont even know who to go for tonight
I'm so fucking horny right now If I blink I might cum
Moral of the story: fuckboys never change
I'm 2 seconds away from smashing the bottle and drinking it off the counter with a straw.
So I just saw someone get shoved into a car trunk by your car.
For 15 minutes straight, he literally did every accent there was, from Russian to Bostonian. The issue: no one could determine whether he was sober, wasted, or anywhere in between
Randomize
