I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
it's business casual sex. like no kissing, shake hands after, occasional frequency
so we had a 20 minute conversation and created the fb page WWND (what would Nana do?) last night after we took our Ambien...that is my definition of an overachiever
I knew we should have skipped class earlier, my lab partner is drunk from last night and making up his own experiments.
turns out making maccaroni and cheese with whipped cream instead of butter is only good when your high
i spelled "betch" that way on purpose, don't question my abilities as a drunk texter
I was the one passing out cake at the bars
I think the name vodka for a girl is amazing
I wanna get freshman fucked up and do shady things on the last Friday of my youth.
Wrestling for my wallet turned into us almost having sex in the middle of the hallway
He wanted to watch the vow, cuddle, and not have sex. An upgrade is in order.
I want to die, ON THAT, with that INSIDE ME. ironically, I sense that would be the only time I'd feel alive.
Crying into a glass of wine at 10 am isn't exactly how I planned this day to go
What's rude is him not accepting my blowjob offer. What kind of guy denies that.
I texted him: “Come over for the Super Bowl. I promise lots of scoring.”
My divorce is turning into a porn script
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