I have a running excel spreadsheet detailing the number of shots in a night and subsequent ability to masturbate
Nothing says "get your life together" better than waking up in a tub full of your own vomit. Twice. In one night.
The rest of us are chipping in to soundproof your bedroom. This is getting ridiculous.
He had a shameless baby voice when he was talking to my dog. There's no way I'm making it through the night with my clothes on.
Bring condoms and burritos. The rest will fall into place
I feel like he better crank it up to level RG IV tomorrow. It's the fucking playoffs.
I have to finish a biography for history and write a review on it so naturally I was like "getting high will make this more bearable" and now I'm basically inside the book at the revolutionary war with this guy.
And then I cried about the Cubs for a half hour. If my dignity hadn't already been lost by that point in the night, it sure as hell was then.
I'm the one on the patio wearing underwear. Holding a pipe. Pigtail and glasses. Can't miss me.
Woke up and took my pants off only to realize that I was wearing my shirt from last night as my underwear
Every guy I've ever fucked is single right now
Pray for me
My vagina still hurts from yesterday. That's the last time I think riding a mop bucket is a good idea. Don't let me do that again
My books smell like weed. What does that tell you about my college experience?
Thumbs up
She said cowgirls can can pee standing up and proceeded to pull up her dress and drop her underwear.
I just folded my laundry and I washed 3 pairs of underwear and 6 jizz towels. Clearly I'm quarantining right.
Randomize