Stop blaming waffle house for all your problems
he legitimately fell asleep standing up at the club. everyone was impressed
you made sure to tell everyone that the amount of people you had slept with was actually quite low, especially when the size of your breasts was taken into account
I'm just gonna be the bigger person here and say I want you inside me
My friend and I just coined a new term. OBJ. The obligatory blow job. You totally know what I'm talking about.
Like if he goes down on you first, or you just don't want to bone him yet. OBJ.
last nights episode of shot friends brought to you by polish vodka and flamingo baseball. pickles cure hangovers.
I usually just read books and meditate to an aquatic soundtrack of sea walrus's mating. But ill choose coors light instead
I'm going to call you, don't answer. Need to practice moaning to your answering machine again
I want to lick his teeth again. Is that a creepy thing to say?
I'm still in my ugly sweater and underwear drinking coffee next to a plate of assorted treats we stole from the party. I got a new sweater by the way, its shoulderpad-y and looks like a news anchor got thrown up on by Liberace. I'm pretty proud.
Also, yes, I look pretty rough. But my ovaries fought back this morning so getting dressed decently was not a priority.
Starting St Patrick's Weekend, non stop flights on Pacific Whorelines to the scenic HotMessXpress. Get the cougars ready, it's gonna get weird.
I'm 25 and I shit my bed last night. And I'm telling you about it. Not sure which is worse
He gave us beer and shots and made us pizza in his brick oven before firing a handgun into the air to signal it was time to give us a ride in his inflatable raft to the bars.
He's like a mythological figure
I gave him breakup sex, AGAIN
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