HE had a tribal tattoo tramp stamp, jasmine.
You need to come back and get me. This is not a jersey shore party and he is not dressed as Pauly D and I am about one shot away from hooking up with a real fist pumping Guido.
Your last words were "i'm gonna motorboat the bartender." then you commenced with an attempted motorboat
slut bingo starts in ten minutes ...
I paid your cover too so you're on the list as tits mcgee. You're welcome :D
So the bartender tried kicking me out but i screamed im an RA you cant kick me out
When we were eating pie last night, I dropped some, and not only did you not judge me for far surpassing the 5 second rule, you let me use your foot to sock mop with. You're a good friend.
It is very possible that having sex with you just now just got me into Yale
Living room floor. I asked him to give me a back rub. He did. And smoothly transitioned that to foreplay, then basically threw me on the floor. My vagina hurts. He deserves another Christmas present.
By 11 pm the pants were off and there was no turning back. But on the bright side, you promised me your CDs when you died, you even signed a napkin saying so.
No I need this job. I actually contemplated buying a vibrator with my dad's credit card the other night.
And amler is totally snoring loud as fuck sitting on the steps with her feet in a puddle of soda puke
Last night I got drunk on margaritas at an Irish pub and came home with only one shoe. I have to get my shit together.
You really know how to show Monday who's boss.
We watched ESPN, hooked up, got waffles. You know, a typical weekend.
Is it just me or did we have a heart to heart talk while you were naked last night?
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