I called the bar to ask if they found my Id and credit card and they remembered me as 'the girl who signed her receipt in blood'
Classy. Drunk on alcoholic "energy drink" at work before 8 am on a Tuesday. Between that and hanging out in bars with no pants on, your life is beginning to sound like a Bukowski novel.
It's so cute when the exchange student uses "blowjob" as a verb.
Taking my tights off outside the club to give them to the homeless man was my contribution to humanity. The fact that it was snowing just made me feel like superman.
Note to self: do not take so many shots that you sit on the floor under the bar where nobody can see you, and reach out and grab peoples crotch.
"Don't get as drunk as I was on my birthday" has been upgraded from a goal for Friday night to a goal for my life in general.
But he does seem to be getting proper humping etiquette down. So there's progress.
"Douchebag of the Year" award goes to the guy who didn't reply to the picture of my tits.
I'm naked, I'm drunk, and I'm all up on social media right now
I'm sorry for aggressively singing the Frasier theme song at you so many times last night.
He's unconstrained by sanity, physics, or his liver.
During my first week as an adjunct prof, I played a fiercely fought game of squash with a law student and we wound up having hot, sweaty, angry sex right on the floor of the court. She is either the best or worst thing to happen to my academic career. Will let you know.
I still have that dildo-suction bruise on my forehead and this sweater STILL smells like my Christmas Eve vomit.
I'm intrigued by how his mouth tasted the same as his dick.
I’ll call you in a minute. Trying to book an AirBnB so I can finally bang the yummy guy from yoga
Your downward dog is going to rock his cock. I’m jealous
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