If only Ben were 51% gay instead of 49%
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
Even tho I saw his penis. He is still a really nice guy.
He added me on Facebook. I'm pretty sure he got my name from the inside of the bra I had lost in the frat house.
Just faked two orgasms bc I had too much wine and remembered mid sex that I bought doritos yesterday.
I'll be listening to "I will always love you" and sobbing uncontrollably all night, care to join?
I cannot tell if the couch is cold or I spilled beer. THAT kind of night.
Sweating vodka and spray tan, I feel like a trophy wife.
I've come to the conclusion all of your awkward and complicated male encounters could easily be intercepted by a man town Yankee candle and a vibrator. Sleep on that tell me your thoughts in the morning. Sweet dreams.
I tolerate his mediocre drunk sex for the mind blowing morning sex. More than worth it.
He put his SoundCloud on his Tinder bio. I felt personally attacked.
Hey, remember that time a week ago when we walk-of-shamed literally down the Vegas Strip at 8:45am and I had one broken heel?
I haven't gotten dressed in 4 days. God bless you, unemployment.
you better come over.. I need a witness to help prove the couch talks to me
At a bar in the city and the whole place starting singing “Happy Birthday” to someone. Everyone but me. The person next to me leaned over and said, “Why didn’t you sing along?!?” I responded, “I don’t know him. I don’t give a shit if he has a happy birthday.”
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