Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Now I have to picture Dave Letterman having sex with all these women. Im the real victim.
she spent the whole night flailing her arms because "primates are the only species who can move their arms like that and we shouldn't waste it"
i am exhausted. it's been years. we both know his dick is small. the jig is up.
He literally had a note from his doctor saying he wasn't allowed to finger me for a week
she's traveling up the coast with her camera and a stash of pot cookies eating food from different campuses. said she slept in a closet 2 states away last nite... of course I'm interested
Was that your vagina? Received a text pic from a number I didn't recognize. Shaved, so no hair color cues. But it looked like your lips.
Dedication to a hook up: I had to recruit five people at the train station to help me buy a ticket from a kiosk and get on the right train in 15 minutes because I discovered that my car was stolen.
I need someone to play with my boobs. Even platonically. I just need a good groping
My card got declined when I tried to buy dippin dots at 2 am, the lady gave them to me for free because "I looked like I needed them."
So, I have realized that I am kryptonite for married men. I'm not sure how to feel about this sober, but drunk me accepts her destiny.
Visions of polite missionary are dancing in my head right now kinda and it alarms me
He goes from zero to fucking up in 2.4 drinks. Like the sportscar of bad decision making.
I don't know what happened last night. But I just woke up in the high school boiler room
I just watched a squirrel take down a snake,life isn't so bad after all.
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