Maury Povich's contact info is in our database at work...i should steal it right?
Still can't decide which I'm more disappointed about: the blow job I gave him or the donuts I ate after.
pretty sure if my vagina had a mouth, it would have been smiling afterwards.
Jumped in the kebab van and said he was Ultimate MasterChef. Incurred wrath of six angry Turks. I got free chips.
I just want to make mistakes. Like stds that go away with antibiotics mistakes.
You're the only true friend I have, if true friendship is based off who would be there for me at 4am during a boxed wine crisis.
Lets both be adults and never talk about last night again.
The last thing I remember is goading each other into a vodka-chugging competition.
I have his gate key so know he has to see me again.
It's times when I'm naked but also want to be platonically social that I miss you the most.
I don't think anything is more terrifying than the thought that you might shit your pants in front of your boss
Update: his apartment is apparently in the campus Christian community center. The fact that I fucked him on the couch in the lobby is officially my crowning life achievement.
You said "I feel like a koala bear. Do you ever just feel like a koala bear?" This is your brain on drugs.
You’re sleeping on my couch so you’re not making dick appointments tonight
I think you threw up on me last night but i can't remember so i'm not mad at you.
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