If I remember correctly, I may have been smoking a cigarette on the dance floor. This is the true sign of a douchebag in his native habitat...fmylife
morning outfit: hottub soaked skirt. no underwear. someone's bandanna worn as a shirt. took me an hour to walk home. this isn't fun anymore.
I have a very awkward question for you. Could you possibly take my black dildo. My mom wants to clean my room.
I've been deciding between brands of bagels for 20 minutes. This why I doint smoke weed.
Matt just took me to visit my puke stain from 2 weeks ago at the train station...I'm fucking impressive
I can't wait until next week, when I find out what drunk me added to the Netflix queue.
Am I the only one creeped out by the guy asleep behind our couch?
Legitimate concern. Who am I going to have birthday sex with?
They made the rule if I caught the ball with my cleavage they would drink the entire beer pong table. I don't think they expected me to actually do it.
You were typing for me while I was hyperventilating into a paper bag on the floor.
You know you went through something intense when you actuallu applaud yourself for not shitting your pants
You literally chaperoned my booty call.
How is it that I know 4 different bartenders who won't charge me for drinks, but I can't get laid?
Sorry I bailed on you yesterday. I was propositioned.
And you don't turn down margaritas and oral.
That is our entire relationship. We match bowls and give each other head. What more could you possibly want?
Randomize
