Is it bad that my booty call's snoring was more interesting than the sex we had last night?
I’m once again drinking at eight am on a Sunday in my tutu. This garment is literally my best purchase ever.
We found him. 8 blocks away from the bars and almost at his parent's house. On the verge of tears.
No more tipping the bathroom attendant with your phone.
I don't care if he's straight, his cock will be in my mouth by midnight. Like a closeted Cinderella.
Jordan and I are drunk and barred out at the liquor store sitting in the awesome $70 Corona bench bargaining with the owner for a lower price, all while passing the Belvedere bottle between the two of us. Real life. College has down this.
Curse you and your alcoholic milkshakes.
You're welcome.
I just took a shower and found half a cookie melted under my boob. Please tell me there's a reason
I had to help him get his zipper down in front of his dad so he could pee in the bushes. That Is what moonshine does to you.
Did you send me a snapchat of your sister triple kissing two other girls?!!! You might be the greatest friend the world ever made
I woke up this morning and I had the absolutely horrific realisation that I am the human incarnation of scrappy doo
I found myself looking up beard accounts while masturbating, I guess that's what it's come to.
I accidentally brought up how there used to be a big tree in his yard, which I could only have known if I had been Google mapping his house.
the awesomest thing about staying behind in our lame ass dorm room by myself during spring break: I've now nutted in 3 inconspicuous locations on your side of the room. brag to me again about how fucking awesome tahoe is you shithead. I dare you.
The viagra-rita was a sexual success and a furniture failure. He said it was the best cowgirl sex he’s ever had even with the broken couch
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