things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
He just asked me if his big had a curved penis. Awkward? I think so.
she's in the bathroom. spitting in the trashcan. not throwing up. just spitting and singing bad romance by lady gaga.
thatta girl
you busted in the room, ripped the covers off of us, ... and fist pumped
my mom took me to a gay bar and went on and on about all her good times at clubs... i now know where i get it
Its like a zucchini between his legs. An orgasmic zucchini.
he kept telling me how much his girlfriend would love me while we were making. why does tequila always do this to me?
I'm definitely going to class still drunk right now and the freshman dressed as Hugh Heffner last night is texting me. I can't handle this.
I just...no. You make my soul cry. You are giving me karma-cancer. This torture of my majesticness can no longer be tolerated.
So hungover. I dropped my keys and leaning over seemed a terrible idea. Instead I took my shoe off in the middle of the street and use my toes to pick them up. Think I'm a genius.
what the hell is that chicken wire thing she's holding?
An artistic expression of her stupidity.
We had sex in his hot tub. Then we saved a mouse that almost drown in his pool. We celebrated our heroism with more sex.
I'm prostituting myself for tickets to Disney World. There's a contradiction there.
I can't believe I got dumped for a fat chick, but at least I got four and a half years worth of free shit. So we can call it even.
He plays guitar, sings like an angel, and acts like a gentleman. If I don't fuck him by the end of first semester, I'm dropping out
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