I feel like your standards for women is like rent-a-centers standards for credit.
At Bonnaroo. Just saw a couple emerge from a port-a-potty. Romantic?
They found a chair, duct taped me to it, then gave me a bottle of vodka to 'make me feel at home'
when the song champagne showers came on you poured some kids beer over his head... while giving him a lap dance
mate, my mother watched me threw up out of my nose wearing only a g-string.
If we accept the love we think we deserve do we also accept the sex we think we deserve?
The fact that you're allowing Santa to dry hump your ass is sort of a dealbreaker
Black out Jordan is making huge strides. I didn't even pee on anyone or anything last night.
I'm just trying to absorb as much of the fluids from the carpet as I can.
It's meant to be, Cynthia. You, him, and your developed breasts are meant for each other.
I faked more orgasms with him then ever should be allowed for someone this pretty.
I was picked up from his hotel room at 5 a.m. and came home with my panties and jäger in a McDonald's bag so the desk attendant wouldn't judge me. This is what single at 25 is about.
The last thing I need is a possessed urethra.
Just walked out of the train bathroom after having sex and got a round of applause from the passengers. Definitely the best part of the trip.
Chaz got drunk and passed out so we superglued a kazoo to his mouth. Listening to him Panic when he woke up was fucking hilarious.
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