I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
girl has like over 50 stars tattooed on her front, side and back. feels like i just fucked the universe.
I just saw a Puerto Rican child between the ages of 8 and 11 with a faint mustache talking very loudly on the bluetooth in his ear about how "Skittles are played the fuck out"
I had to go to the bank to confirm purchases made on 10/31/09 because they were signed as Lady Gaga
giving him head while hes talking to his fiancee on the phone about inviting me to their wedding.... im invited. should i go or would that be wrong?
let me put this in terms we both understand. he was the crunchwrap supreme of men--the perfect combo of all things manly, gooey and delicious. and ready for instant enjoyment.
He got me an interview at his law firm and his boss asked him what he had to say about me. His response "He dates CRAZY bitches."
hey you knew what you were in for when i showed up with 2 fifths of Jim. plus i left money to pay for a new sink
Guy next to me is looking up how to press his own ecstasy pills. I'm going to befriend him and see where this goes
We were messing around at his place it was going fine until he said, "I'm going to cum, hand me the shot glass"
I just need you to stay far enough away that I can't smell your cologne. I completely forget that I fucking hate you as soon as I smell it.
Had a slight melanoma scare this morning. Spoiler alert, it was Nutella.
Just ate Panda Express. Fortune cookie had no fortune in it. I actually prefer this. Less broken dream potential.
Oh my god, my vagina is cursed. He's cursed my vagina so that no one but him can maintain a boner around me. I'm sure of it.
I thought this boy told me to choke him, so I went all in. Turns out he really said “stroke.”
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