I don't know where I am, but its a Goosebumps novel waiting to happen.
Riding home in a carseat. Worst. Night. Ever.
It was so romantic--he turned me around to face the sunset during doggy-style over the couch back.
Lots of explosions. Minor nudity. Full penetration and lots of tuxedos.
Home. Barefoot. Drunk. Crying. Puked. Brushed teeth. Washed face. Dying. Need Cuddle.
I want him to rain dance my fallopian tubes.
Leaving your birthday party to engage in a threesome IS allowed. I checked the rule book.
The only alcohol in the house was a bottle of Sherry. It's like cough syrup that I shotgunned off Strawberry Shortcake's ass.
Balls are being tripped. Said meow to my cat and he said yeah cool dude.
I don't think she considers it a date unless she publicly urinates
the police told me I had to sign a waiver stating that my car will no longer be used for crime activity.
Seeing your one night stand on campus never gets less awkward. Why is Subway the only good place to eat?
You were supposed to be my wingman and all you kept to her friend was "kill it with fire"..
He ripped down his Kate Upton poster while we were having sex last night. Im gonna take that as a good sign.
So i had a lucid dream about blowing myself. This is why people love me
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