I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
I just tried to put my feet in my slippers and found cans of beer in them. Christmas in fucking july.
He's coming over tonight...I really wish I didn't have my period right now...
I believe I'm witnessing the first time ever that you wished your period would NOT come....
The meeting is at the same hotel we go to for sex. Avoiding eye contact with all the staff there.
Although, I did get to see a Raiders fan and his toothless girlfriend get roughed up by the police and dragged out of the stadium. So the night wasn't a total loss.
He pulled out, and the resulting cumstain on my sheets is in the shape of a fetus. The irony of this is both awesome and terrifying.
It's official. I am the girl who threw up in the library. Hangovers and midterms do not mix.
"it's Wednesday" isn't a good enough excuse to take my debit card and use it for your own drunken needs. You owe me 250 bro
You texted me a picture of your face along with #help
wrestling a boy for fruit? sounds suspiciously like foreplay...
If blow jobs were a super power she'd be in the Justice League.
if my uterus stops caving in on itself long enough for me to be alive I'm there
The guy I'm talking to drunk texted me his essay last night and he asked me to revise it
IT WAS JUST SO LITTLE AND AWKWARDLY FLOPPING BACK AND FORTH
His mom wants to come see the dorm.
Hide the whip.
Randomize
