After he proceded to violently molest my tits until 9 am i snuck out of his room only to meet his mother downstairs, who informed me she heard the giant sexfest going on in the room next to them.. this was before she called us both "chickenshits".. worst walk of shame ever.
vodka and carrot juice, if im gonna drink i at least got my 8 servings of vegetable
High as balls & about to be tanning. Helloooo 15 minute vacay.
i was picked up off the floor by a stripper, if thats not a new life low then i dont know what is.
I didn't know people actually cried after sex.
Our idea of a "deep conversation" was successfully forming complete sentences.
Standards? I'm sitting on his couch eating microwaved ramen wearing his wife's t-shirt. I don't remember what having standards even feels like.
my professor saw me buying beer for the super bowl and said go patriots. thats how i know im getting an A in his class.
Bright side: maybe hell start being nice to you now that you know he has erectile dysfunction.
Saxophones in my mind. I swear someone dosed me.
We let him drunkenly pack his own bags without checking them. Yet no one was surprised when the TSA girl pulled a 12 pack out of his carry on.
Trying to convince myself that everyone keeps staring at me because I'm pretty and not because of my hickies.
I started scrolling back in our texts looking for context and a picture of your dick rose like the Great Pumpkin in the middle of my screen.
Also-when I die, I want it to be with my arms above my head so that when rigor mortis sets in, my breasts are perky.
P.s. I loved that your balls smelled like coconut
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