I didnt realize til after I got out of her apartment and into the lobby that we lived in the same building.
long story short: there's a file in the master file cabinet labeled "lube".
This is so fucking sad. Netherlands isn't even a real country.
i mean, we fucked on the futon in the garage where his band practices. pretty sure im now obligated to like his band on facebook.
I may have pooped in your shoe. or somewhere else in your closet. its unclear.
We could make it a date. Dinner and a show. The show being my nipples getting pierced.
Somebody left a mini pitcher in the bathroom. Think its safe?
I've only left my bed to pee and eat nutella out of the jar with my fingers
nothing says 'im willing to leave my comfort zone for you' like letting you choke me during sex
could you clean the juice and feathers off my bed I'm just not up for hangover cleaning.
Don't bang him. The amount of Jack Johnson he listens to is embarrassing for even a white person.
She kept grabbing my head and told my faces to stop shaking.. Also, she kept whispering something about seeing flowers in my eyes.
Oh yeah and one of the strippers brought you chips and water when you were passes out next to the toilet. So that was nice
I knew my bag made it because I could smell the fireball that spilled inside of my suitcase before it was on the luggage carousel.
Nothing warms my heart more than the sight of a naked hockey player in my bed.
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