I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
And then he said "I can't get blown while Gordon Bombay and Mr. Holland stare at me from the TV"
think i got pink eye from a stripper in vegas. showgirls did not prepare me adequately for this. be kind, 2010.
She went off on a twilight/new moon tangent before we even got back to my room. i had to jump the ship and pretended to pass out on the sidewalk.
I want to say that being forced to stare at the 'no.1 boyfriend' collage behind his head ruined the sex but it just didn't.
My vagina is depressed thinking about her future.
Although I love the reason it was done, can you maybe not show pictures of my dick to all your friends at parties? I like to present my penis in my own special way. thanks
I think making out with someone could be the cure to all my problems. That or more cowbell.
I need a Jamo leash. Just tie it to my wrist and every time you see me reaching for a shot of it, just yank my hand away
Apparently, "please don't I have to be in court tomorrow" is not a valid excuse for a girl to abstain from giving a massive hickey.
He puked in the middle of it and I still wasn't disappointed.
Allow me to explain. Triple D is a surprise. It's like if you're expecting to fight one person, then you get ambushed by more. Except it's a good ambush, because it's boobs, not death.
Im selling my dirty underwear to pay for that cruise. NO JUDGEMENT . I love you lol ❤❤ also dont tell anyone
when you wake up naked in a bed with glowsticks, a rolled ankle, a hangover, and a condom; alone. you wonder shit
before i went to bed i wrote myself a note that says 'i feel all swirly'
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