My cab driver just texted me 'goodnight beautiful'. I think my 'desperate for a guy phase' has just moved into a fuck my life phase.
I want to be done crawling through windows but the sex is too good to stop...but I'm running out of excuses for where the bruises on my legs are coming from.
Her hair goes down to her lower back and nobody was there to held it back for her. She looked like chewbacca dipped in vomit.
My entire summer has consisted of being too drunk for this shit, too sober for this shit, or too hungover for this shit.
Our first order of business as new roommates was to test the sex acoustics of our rooms. I need a new box spring.
Oh you know, the usual. We had a good date, I took her back home, she took off my pants, laughed, and left.
This really high kid past out in the corner of the room holding a box of cheez its in his arm. My idol.
Visions of polite missionary are dancing in my head right now kinda and it alarms me
I think the only option is to smoke so much weed I just pass out for 3 days.
I mean, we were all drinking, but I'm pretty sure kidnapping came up.
If the smell of things stopped me from putting things in my mouth. I wouldn't be popular with Grindr guys.
Is it immoral to trade sex for the use of his laundry room?
THE COP WHO TOOK MY MUGSHOT LAST NIGHT JUST ADDED ME ON FACEBOOK
there must be tiny pirates in the freezer stealing our rum.
I don't wanna be 33 that's when Jesus died
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