What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Next thing I know we're all standing in the kitchen holding hands and thanking God for the beer.
sitting on the counter. eating honey. crying, because coldplay sounds beautiful on the radio. highhhhh as the sky
When you wake up in your dorm right outside your room with the key in the door, then you will understand my pain.
like he couldn't stop by and throw me in the back seat and ask for a blowjob? he had to give me flowers?
I can't tell which way is up. Too many corners around his house too. An arbitary assimilation of edges.
Christ, I swear you are the high man's Dr. Seuss.
He texted back and said he would hook up if he didn't have a test at 8am. It's really hard to be annoyed by how good of a student he is.
Yeah that sucks. That's why I stick to deadbeat sports management majors.
Anyways, he came over at 3:30 am and ate me out while I ate pizza on the counter
Betting for two different teams with two different guys is the best. Time to get $100 by one guy and laid by the other!
I'm just gonna put on a documentary and throw up
Naked and Afraid: Hangover edition
I can check masterbating in China off the bucket list.
You're just upset because I have cupcakes and boobs and you don't.
I just want you to know that watching you throw up out of a cab in the McDonald's drive thru was probably the highlight of my night.
Randomize
