I am in a vortex of obligation.
OMG MY MOM JUST ASKED IF I WAS GETTING PAP SMEAR TOMORROW VERY LOUDLY WHILE WE ARE STANDING IN A VERY PUBLIC LINE.
My vagina is so ashamed right now. It won't even look at me.
Whoever had sex in my bed during the party last night left a glow in the dark condom on my floor. I'm not even mad anymore, I just want to know who it is so they can tell me where to get one.
we woke up to him feeding us cheetos at 3am. and by feeding i mean shoving them in our mouths and saying "i mean who doesn't like cheetos"
Grad practice is like a live scrapbook of my drunken sexual encounters
If people don't want my drunken phone call then TAKE YOUR FUCKING NUMER OFF OF FACEBOOK, like it's just that easy...
You said you were going inside to sober up and then you poured yourself a wine glass of warm gin
Hey can we break in your window? We need to borrow the dog.
I hope you realize that its not me making that decision, but rather the combination of my genitals and sexual orientation
I've got mace and a condom. Ready to roll either way and keeping my pimp hand strong.
It's like the dark age of my sex life being stuck here
I may have just tried to argue quantum entanglement as the reason I was still in her bed.
you know you're in deep when you watch fear and loathing in las vegas and every damn scene is relatable.
Who wants to play the "pick up your shit from our floor because you're not paying rent or dating either of us" game?
Randomize
