you told everyone your name was brenda and you had the whole party chanting b-dawgg by the end of the night. successful.
He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
So some girl kept staring at me and giving me these weird looks. That's when I realized she could probably hear the Mulan soundtrack playing on my iPod...
I'm having post traumatic stress flashbacks of last night. That big. Don't know whether to call him again or change my name...
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I just masturbated to the audio from my psych lecture . . . this screwing my prof fantasy is getting serious.
Just saw the guy with the plastic bag on his head riding his bike again...
I just pulled a piece of cookie out of my bra in the middle of class. I'm forever alone.
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
I told my doctor about us having twin chlamydia
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I didn't realize how drunk I was until my vagina was in the snow.
Only Tommy would bring a stripper pole to a bonfire
I'm pretty sure that I drunkenly used the phrase "I just want his beard all over my body" way too many times last night.
On a serious note, don't let me forget to tell you about firecracker baseball. I'm glad I have my fingers. I had to count them.
You handed me an unpeeled grapefruit off the frat basement floor and then took a bite out of it.
Welp just ran into my high school history teacher while buying a pregnancy test...there goes my veil of innocence in this town.