Going to get tested monday. You're coming with. Bonding time, slut style.
We named our saturday intramural dodgeball team "we're hungover". Pretty much just an excuse to fuel my alcoholism on friday nights.
We pinky-swore to never fuck each other again.
You told me to pour the Gatorade on you "like Flashdance"
After a certain point, you just want to make it work. Prove to yourself that you're smarter than the vibrator.
Hi, this is a test of the morning after apology broadcast system. If you're receiving this pre-recorded message there is a high probability I was a dickwad to you in the past 24 hours. You have my utmost and sincere apologies. Also if you have my wallet, house key, left converse, or lighter, give them/it back
And on the seventh day, God carefully sculpted your cock to fit perfectly into my masterpiece of a vagina. Then he rested. Look it up.
Then you bent down and whispered, "excuse me mr. Stair, could you please stop moving?"
Don't worry, the house smells like waffles more than sex
Just got our of the shower. I'm standing naked in front of my open windows cause fuck my neighbors that's why
I'm high and dancing to practical magic. Your needs for my penis can wait.
In case you're wondering what frozen hashbrowns taste like at 4 in the afternoon, shame. They taste like shame.
Fyi, shaking your genitals at me doesn't count as "trying to have sex".
I'm tripping pretty hard right now but every time a Volvo drives by I feel like everything is gonna be alright
He was wearing a diaper to the party. I've never felt like such a creep in my life.
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