so i texed my mom when i was trashed last night and said "i know its 3 am, just go to bed and i'll be back by the time we leave for the airport"
she was definitely wearing a bumpit. i think it was the hollywood bumpit. i told her that i lived with my parents to get outta taking her home.
He was putting purell on my boobs saying "they need to be clean for later." He hadn't had a drink all night
so i wake up and the chick who i had sex last night left her phone number. next to the number was a broken condom. should i call?
I understand. Hypothetically what should one do after throwing up in the shower?
I'm literally partying with O.J. Simpson's son right now. I don't know what to make of this.
Cuz its complicated and I hate complicated and I miss your penis
I woke up to you singing What Makes You Beautiful and trying to blend an avocado with vodka.
i remember going to sleep after the 4th time i threw up this morning and hoping i didn't have to again because then it would be uneven between saturday and sunday. my ocd is getting out of control
I Pavlov-trained him by smacking him in the nuts anytime I caught him looking at another girl in public. To this day, he's afraid to break eye contact with me in a restaurant if a tall busty blonde walks in.
you know it's been too long when the heat of a pizza box on your lap turns you on.
There it is. Caramel-coated dick. Someone is getting a yeast infection later.
She acted like falling "up" the stairs was a fucking physics phenomenon. I call that Tuesday nights.
I'm in the recliner and i have a bottle of wine wedged in my cleavage, drinking from a straw. Clever and classy or pathetic and sloppy?
Is texting an old booty call with "can you still get your ankles behind your ears?" an appropriate way to reemerge into the singles scene???
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