When I say rough sex, and show you scars from past encounters, pulling my hair a little IS NOT GOING TO CUT IT. And he just doesn't understand.
I may still return these pants. Depends how much they smell like alcohol by tmrw morning. I've already spilled once.
the game I always play with drunk me is can-you-button-and-unbutton things? If the answer is no, go home. Usually it's his pants
Those were the days I had no morals... Dark times.
Shall we take a trip back?
We shaved off his eyebrows I'm pretty sure his fiance will be thrilled at the wedding
There was a time I was reining queen of Sunday funday... And at that same time I also weighed 20 pounds more, had the morale of a spearmint rhino stripper, and woke up most mornings asking more questions than fucking Barbara Walters. I think I just wrote my own epitaph.
I have a theory that years from now they will be with women who despise me because of what I trained their husbands to like.
What!? It's 7:30am on gameday. This keg is not going to drink itself.
i came outside and he was eating her out on my lawn. i refuse to pick up the dog shit in my yard so i hope he chose the spot wisely
You can't just walk around stealing hats from drunk boys and peeing in bathtubs. Turn down.
I've never had sex with me but I assume there are worse ways to be woken up.
no we have a special triathlon I'm entering us in. drinking, fucking, and sleeping. I think we have a good shot.
The struggles of a small town man whore
There's no button for "gave my boyfriend's cock to a friend" on my intimacy calendar.
It seems I've entered my 21st birthday the same way I entered this world: naked, crying and smothered in someone else's bodily fluids...
Randomize