so i woke up with ketchup and a sticky boob on my face...this is a new low
we were having sex and she freaked out when i said nipple
Countdown til Saturday. I'd assume we're somewhere around 10,000 bottles of beer on the wall.
I woke up with a random mailbox in my room with a note that said "this should probably be returned. Happy Thursday!"
was it good sex?
i mean it was good for how drunk we were. and for how big the closet was
I dont think he was a real cab driver. I think he was just a creepy guy with a van.
the only thing keeping me going right now is the knowledge that in 2 hours i'll be drunk at the circus.
An hour ago, you were stranded out of state, and now you're getting laid? You are a god. Whatever you do, don't ask her name.
I wrote my name on his balls in sharpie. In the homosexual world that's like a diamond ring. Shits permanent.
I'm petty sure you said "hold on let me make my nipples hard, they look better"
I told her my cab was outside the club and that I had to go, but I think we both knew this wasn't going anywhere past the sloppy bathroom handjob.
Well, I washed his beard with dish soap and then I fucked him three times.
I CAN ONLY BE THE BIRDIE ON YOUR SHOULDER WHO LEADS YOU INTO BAD DESCISIONS
The guy that stalks me just looked out his window and saw me in his neighbor's hot tub. Get your shit ready the fraternity wars are starting.
Was not aware that standing loudly up off the couch and loudly, drunkenly slurring "I'M EIGHTEEN NOW BITCHES" counted as a primitive mating call.
Randomize
