The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
Motorboating on a tuesday night. not too shabby....
apparently i traded the tiffany necklace my mom bought me for 2 shots and next in line for beer pong at the frat.
You came in at two thirty, wearing your underwear and a tie then asked where you could find a sombrero and a pair of stilletos that would fit your men's size thirteen feet.
I figured out why I insisted on leaving my sweater on the ground outside. I smelled it and I'm 97% sure I peed on it last night
He had a shameless baby voice when he was talking to my dog. There's no way I'm making it through the night with my clothes on.
As I was brushing his cum out of my hair he looks at me and says "it happens to me all the time."
I have a new game. It's called "how weird can you act before a guy won't fuck you". I've deducted most guys are willing even if you're batshit insane.
This day sucks. I just wanna play ostrich and bury my head in your boobs.
I think I should start a match.com profile and put "robe lounging" as my only hobby
I don't think you understand what laundry day means. I am wearing a swimsuit as underwear and my spanish club tshirt from junior high
That last one reminds me of the time we smoked that foot-long joint and by the time we'd finished we were so stoned we applauded it.
Afterwards the first thing I said was, "You know, you're probably the first guy who has ever gotten laid wearing Star Wars pajama bottoms."
you yelled, puked and cried then passed out in the fetal position in your underwear
I apparently sent an offer letter to, and then subsequently onboarded, the wrong candidate. How's your Monday?
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