So yesterday I was on craigslist and I saw a listing for a sofa-cum-bed. I knew what they meant...
stop calling my apartment porn island.
worst night to have a conscience
I decided that just having that story under my belt and being able to tell it to my grandchildren is worth the regrets of the evening.
He made me a mix cd. There is obviously something wrong with him.
the only good thing about him lasting five minutes was that nobody thinks i had sex with him or that im a slut because we were only in the bathroom for five minutes
once you started introducing yourself as "running-bear" i knew you were beyond fucked up
There is a mirror in the headboard of the bed that I'm sleeping in so I can immediately question life choices when I wake up.
Exactly. So you're exempt under the "I can't just fuck her to make it go away" clause of 2010.
Last night he asked the cab driver "if you were in the middle of getting tattooed and the tattoo artist suddenly got a boner would you leave or would you get that boner??"
Youre attempt to ruin my night by putting Date Rape by Sublime on my sex playlist failed. She was into it.
Apparently I filled my purse with chicken nuggets and told my mom I was a "sexual squirrel."
Steve, that episode of cops where your dealer rear-ended that family is on again.
I woke up with a captain's hat on my desk.
that may or may not have been my penis.
Randomize
