bathroom sex at kohls isnt as trashy as it seems
dipping my christmas cookies in kaluha. santa would be proud.
official worst smell ever. a used condom that has gone through the dryer.
i'm traumatized. his orgasm face consisted of him looking like my dead grandfather and burping.
I think our camping neighbours like us. We're the drunk girls trying to chop firewood with no pants on at 3 in the afternoon.
we are all four or five tequila-induced decisions away from shitting in a bucket, come get me please.
And for some reason I just want to have sex with EVERYTHING
Sometimes you get drunk and fall out of a car. I never said it was glamorous.
I'm going to text my booty call and tell him nevermind, that I got the job finished by myself. That will teach him to text back faster.
This lesson is brought you by a psychology class.
He is peeing inside and sticking up for himself. Those are two of the four signs of the apocalypse.
It's amazing
I want to run hundreds of miles and do a whole semesters worth of homework while flying on a unicorn and throwing endless glitter bombs
On the way home there was a guy passed out IN the road on Colfax with his pants around his ankles, completely bare assed. If he was dressed as a speed bump, he succeeded.
He's slurring his text. I didn't think that was possible.
I'm not sure if I should pay him or he should pay me, but someone should get paid for the sex I had this morning.
You just kept yelling "you ain't got no pancake mix." to the tv screen
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