My mom gets in bar fights. She doesn't go to bed early.
I found your twin in sf. His name is ryan. And you are the evil one.
You stole her bday cake and shared it with drunk strangers on the street.
He always grinds on me and is like "This is awesome because we're both Catholic!"
my night ended in me puking all over jenna's bed, then me trying to wash the sheets in the toilet.
so, does the "dick the size of your forearm" thing run in the family then?
I'm not sure that our 12-years-ago-high-school-"relationship," and 179 texts in the last 4 hours is gonna be enough to squeeze a naked smartphone picture of me. I'm gonna need some chicken wings or Makers Mark before that starts happening.
He ran into the room yelling "attack! Attack!", jumped on top of me on the air mattress, popped the air mattress, and then we had victory sex, because he was proud of popping it.
I broke the girls bed. I will not apologize about bragging.
I know it I should, but it's kinda nice. It's smells like unbridled enthusiasm and copious amounts of melt your face off sex.
See? I told you no boy in roller skates could be entirely straight.
Drunk Sam makes promises that Sober Sam can't keep
Also, fucking on half deflated air mattresses is a great full body work out.
It’s like my vagina just knows when a man is a barrel-chested freedom fighter.
He's a security blanket. A security blanket who FUCKS.
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