OH RELAX, IT WAS PITY SEX.....
I wonder if there will ever be a day where I don't find lisps really really hilarious.
Since when does a beard not count as proof of age at the liquor store?
He's my palate cleanser. He's my mint sorbet. He's my saltine cracker. He's who I fuck between people to make the next one better.
I don't have any food so I made a martini so I could eat the olives. Don't tell me I can't think outside the box.
she literally hasn't taken the mardi gras beads off in three days. she showered in them. TWICE.
He said i looked like a shooting star sprawled out on the floor while i puked and i kept blaming "senor cuervo" for doing me dirty.
Im rolling a blunt of encouragement for you to return to
Well the "Blackout with your sack out" party turned out predictably.
Sometimes crazy just comes naturally. I don't need booze to say that on occasion I feel the need to rip off my asshole and throw it against the fridge to see if it sticks.
He ended our Skype call with, "I'm going to poop and then go play my ukulele in the park."
I don't remember, but I believe your goodnight phrase was "nice meeting you, thanks for not macing me"
I'm worried about how taking care of my mom's dog while being on acid will go.
Is it bad form to puke out of a dorm window to avoid looking bad in front of the people in your room?
How about from a sixth floor window?
It's difficult when the romantic and the hedonist in me are fighting. I want him to respect me and hopefully pursue an actual relationship, but then I remember he fucks like a GOD and loves my kink. Oh, life's hard.
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