Hm. I declare blue a flavor.
I have the Lakers game on, but all I can think about is having sex with you. Not sure what you've done here.
the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
She is just riding on my slutty coat tails.
I'm finding that as the end of the quarter approaches, the list of things I refuse to do sober keeps getting longer.
The only way I could get him to agree to hook up with her is telling him I'd hook up with him next week.
he spent like 10 minutes trying to convince us that he was throwing up in the bushes on purpose in order to cut weight for wrestling
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
There are 18k people at the game and I'm next to the one guy who pulls his underwear down to his ankles to piss.
how exactly do you say, "i only agreed to meet you for breakfast because i thought we could go to your place and fuck afterwards."
I think I died last night.
Yeah, you got carried home
Nursing home in NJ just got busted for prostitution and drugs...dropping off my deposit tomorrow
this periodpocalypse needs to be over. I need head
You know it’s going to be a rough day when you scream “Get fucked” at your alarm clock
If waffles and beer don't scream "fuck me!" then I don't know what else to do.
Randomize
