I just got invited to go home with a married couple...
i'm in his phone as sushi coochie
and I was crying with the towel lady in the bathroom of the bar about the tragedy in Haiti. Then we hugged before I left and I gave her 10 dollars.
He left his own bachelor party to bring me weed. Then smoked with me. Tell me I'm not his favorite-ex-friends-with-benefits.
well shes beginning to earn a reputation as "the girl who tries to bone her hook ups in the ass with a pickle"
You forgot your "boyfriend" from last night on my couch. You're suppose to bring that shit with you.
Ok here's the state of the situation: We're alone in a strange city with strange people with nothing but alcohol and sprite, I think we're gonna make it.
"Little drunk?" Honey you were "livetweeting" Sublime's "Sublime" album while it was playing in his car, and at one point you said you hoped they play Santeria. "Little drunk" doesn't cover it.
I don't care how great the sex was, I cannot unsee what has been seen. I regret ever stalking his Facebook.
Sex aside I am really scared about Syria...
College has done two things for me. Given me the confidence to blow my nose in public and shit in public
I stopped hooking up with him and ran to the bathroom to throw up. He saw me throwing up and it made him throw up
Damn him and his beautiful face and body and penis.
He told me he felt the only proper thing to do was fuck me to the top of the corporate ladder
I just want to get high and watch Dr. Pimple Popper.
Randomize
