I woke up this morning with "guy in polar bear j.crew boxers" written on my stomach along with a 5 digit phone number...
standing in the yard with no pants on waiting for google maps to come and take a picture.
I miss the days when all my weekends consisted of were 69 and crunchwraps
Apparently 'she used to sleep with my brother' is not an acceptable answer to how do you know each other.
He cooked me dinner. I showed my appreciation by showing up shithoused and breaking a bottle of steak sauce on his floor.
who am I kidding I don't have any dignity. Plus we're not doing a porno, we're just doing random things naked
I accidentally peed all over the couch. It's safe to say I'm not welcome at that house anymore
At one point I thought we were going to have to fuck our way out of their apartment
Someone shat in our tub last night. I'm not pointing fingers but you priors make you a prime suspect.
He has an accent when he types. I can *hear* the schnitzel. Especially when he's drunk.
Of course I fucked him. He's a professional beat boxer, his entire job is to do complicated shit with his tongue.
Xanax and cookies, it's good to be home
soo... how was my night?
I feel really sorry for my toilet right now
He was eating me out on a samsung washing machine and as soon as I came, I heard the "end of cycle" song. That tune will now always remind me of the screaming, multiple orgasms I recieved tonight!
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