I'm buying this stripper a house, I don't care what her name is.
flashcards smell like vodka and my textbook is in the toilet. ready for the final
He gave me an orgasm with his left hand...and he's right handed. Of course he's a keeper.
I have a question, if it paid really well, like ridiculously well, would you be a restaraunts under the table resident blowjob girl?
Wheres my "thanks for using birth control effectively and not contributing to the downfall of society" card.
I'm getting to the point of going up to a guy and saying "Hi I'm maggie and i can put my foot behind my head"... That desperate.
How did "just two beers for happy hour" turn into naked backyard wrestling?
Sign she's a keeper: "I would rather be late to brunch than waste a perfectly good boner."
I may or may not have puked in the ladies room. Now I get to convince my client to go to substance abuse treatment. Oh, the irony.
this is honestly why we're friends. we drink tea and plan to do drugs together.
Random question, what's John-that-we-had-a-threesome-with's phone number? Don't necessarily need the full number, maybe just area code? Think I drunkenly ran into him last night and now I have texts from a John.
I HAVE A STRAIGHT LINE ACROSS MY ASS ABOUT THE WIDTH OF A SLIM JIM. ERICA!
I told her I'd rather set my hair on fire than sleep with her again. In retrospect, that was probably too harsh. My eye is still swollen shut.
While I was giving him head he told me he had to go door to door the next day and "spread the word of Jesus Christ" I felt like a Disney villain out to steal his virtue.
My house exploded and with it all my pot went up in smoke.
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