I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
And hes hitting me with his balls, really hard.
so he must've not known that your lastname is Came because everytime someone would say your name he would scream "NO SHE DIDNT" to the whole party. He must've not been too good then either.
i've got to stop sleeping with short guys. they always turn into stage 5 clingers
We were squawking at each other for over an hour like chickens. Literally. Never touching the stuff again and never again showing my face at that Denny's.
The stripper had a daughter my age and offered to introduce us. I didn't know what to say to that.
It's one of the many facets of my drunken alter egos. I'm like substance abuse batman.
nothin like your phone freezing up and sending out old booty calls at 11am on a sunday. fml.
We were apparently using marine hand signals to communicate to one another where to meet up in the house to hook up.
Didn't even know I knew marine hand signals.
If if makes you feel any better, you're definitely the hottest guy I've ever friendzoned.
Listen it's no longer the walk of shame to class when ur leaving the frat house and the brothers ask "when are coming back home"
I got you a "sorry you think I'm pregnant" present
Opened my notebook to coke all over the pages. So, if that's any indication on how this weekend went.
Stop calling me, Mom. I'm in his closet. You're gonna blow my cover and I'm about to catch this lying SOB.
I just bought condoms and a potted plant, making for a top ten super weird and awkward purchase.
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