He said he only talked to me because I talk dirty in bed.
I woke up covered in my own vomit with a pocket full of napkins. I guess I knew I would need them, but was not coherent enough to use them before passing out.
my dad just told me he wants a furry wall in the house... i'm proud and concerned
i had confetti in my bra
i still find it in random places like a shoe or my car. that week haunts me
It's what America was founded on: former hookups referring you for a job four years later.
If people don't want my drunken phone call then TAKE YOUR FUCKING NUMER OFF OF FACEBOOK, like it's just that easy...
She has a boyfriend. But if he's a decent human being he understands blowjobs don't count as cheating with her. Keeping those miracles to himself is a crime against humanity.
After so many times of carrying your puked covered clothes home in a bag on a Tuesday morning, you begin to realize that Fucked Up Mondays aren't a real thing.
I'm moving out of my place and I just gave my mom a couch that I had sex on last night. Reduce, reuse, recycle at its best.
This whole pope visit thing is ruining me having sex.
The time stamp on this text message is reason enough alone to not leave me unsupervised
He washed his dick in my kitchen sink after sex. I think he might be a keeper.
I love FaceTime, every time you ring me the morning after its like I went home with your one night stand too.
I've had pants off for 3 hours now. America.
Your life is a soap opera of great sex, cats, and booze.
Randomize
