I was just tapping my foot in the bathroom at Penn Station just PRAYING for anonymous sex. You know how that goes.
His apartment number was 69. I had to.
I hurt. I blacked out in a onesie. Reevaluation needs to happen.
Great. I get laid, Leslie Nielsen dies. I can't have have sex anymore, the film community can't take another loss like this.
I never thought I'd say this, but there is a life threatening amount of rumpleminz in our freezer
Step 1: drink. 2: drink more. 3: go for it. 4a: success. 4b: drink more. 5. drink. 6. go for other girls. 7. drink more. Sound good?
Suppose hypothetically u received a request for face time communication with a gentleman who looked astonishingly like a penis. Would you indulge him in conversation? Hypothetically of course.
Finals drinking + forgeting you had to take your ambien because you work at 6am mid paper= drunk logic which then entails going on a "detox" run. Puking your guts put in the field house bushes while some random guy says to you "its okay. We're marching on."
I have three different pairs of earrings at three different houses including your 16 year old brothers nightstand. Look at my life. Look at my choices
He told me we shouldn't hang out because it would be weird and then snap chatted me a picture of his dick
Apparently fireball doesn't mix well with my no carb diet
Apparently I'm some kind of sexual camel.
i do my most serious thinking while screwing her. ive pondered everything from quantum physics to the life cycle of a badger. if i keep this up ill have a phd in no time.
Idk I saw a cheetah print onesie and it reminded me of your Lion King fantasy.
Bruh. You offered the cashier tater tots that you had stuffed in your pocket.
Yeah, and? She might've been hungry.
Randomize
