I woke up this morning in a strange bed with a kid with an accent playing with my feet.
What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
If a guy called my cleavage "mesmerizing" but is kinda related to me, does it still count?
Things I've learned: after you move in with a girl it's much less satisfying to wipe your dick on her sheets after sex because now they're your sheets too
my secret santa just gave me a pregency test
Just found my DARE notebook from 6th grade. Extacy was starred and highlighted.
At least I've made one childhood dream come true
new rule: i'm not touching his penis until he takes me out to dinner.
you know, if you actually abided by that rule there would be many more successful restauranteurs in ohio.
Also, I've sobered up around 5am, in Delaware. I remember making this decision, and highly regret it now.
i just remembered last night waiting for you to pick me up wearing my bra on my head to protect me from the rain
Precisely. She's an awesome drinking companion; yet, not so awesome mother-in-law material.
i left because you were standing at the top of the stairs throwing shot glasses and bottles full of alcohol at me and yelling JAGERBOMBS
I'm going to book club and then I'm going to get laid. Being in your 20s ain't so bad sometimes.
It's one of those "I can't stand you but we're stuck in the same hotel room tonight so let's fuck until one of us passes out" kind of nights.
I just saw a woman give her infant whiskey tits. About ten minutes ago she was doing shots, and now she's breast feeding. Whiskey. Tits.
i realized my signature handshake has now become a hookup. i love what college has done to me.
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