how's this sound. You, me a box of pink franzia and a night full of possibilities in your basemen. I'll be me. You be you. And we'll see where it goes
He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
Every single piece. I examined every single square inch of this peanut butter and jelly sandwich. and fell in love with every inch. that high.
So at what point while he was throwing up on the girl next to him did you think "yeah, im going to hit that"
My body is being held together with whiskey, nicotine, duct tape and a little bit of hope...
On the back of that comment, I've formed a theory that as a result of my brainwashing your drunk self actually believes that beards are your calling.
I know. he thinks we're 'meant to be'. No we're fucking not. God wouldn't give my soulmate a pencil dick.
These pissing matches have to stop. They led to last night's scotch through the nose shots. I'll never smell again.
I had so much drainage I couldn't moan properly. Fuck allergy season
I came back and almost ran over two people passed out in my driveway I've never met before in my life
I've woke up with the same hoodie on backwards, twice this week. I think that's a record
Somehow i instagrammed my acceptance letter while blacked out. Then my grandma was the first to comment on it. I got over 50 likes....Phd here I come....
That was just an endearing nickname I called you before. I'm not gonna call you a filthy slut now that you are one, I don't want to hurt your feelings.
I think someone is dead in a car across the street
Scratch that, dude's getting a blow job
so apparently over the course of the night my roommate and i had sex in exactly the same spot. ps the downstairs sink needs cleaning.
Randomize
