I woke up in a stranger's bathtub with a broken shower curtain as my blanket.
i just fell asleep masturbating. I'm no longer surprised i'm single. I can't even pleasure myself.
I think the phrase "baptist college" should be an oxymoron.
I just bought the ATT family protection plan so that I could block all of my old bar hookups from booty calling me...
Also, my drunkenly packed sleepover kit consisted of a singular sock, my uncharged laptop, and a pack of post-it notes.
It was all cool until he grabbed my vag and started screaming: THIS IS MINE.
We were having an argument with his friends mom about whether it was worse that he bootycalled me at 4 a.m. or that I bootycalled him at 12 in the afternoon
He refused to pierce my nipples, saying they are the best he's ever seen and that blemishing them would be a crime
we were the definition of too high: argued for 10 minutes about who was gonna get the condom (it was 2 feet away on the night stand) and past out watching adventure time.
You don't know commitment until you try and waterproof a non-waterproof vibrator
"I'm in the bathroom. Only place I can sit and relax without that girl trying to give me a lap dance."
ok, i suppose pissing your pants could be considered a wardrobe malfunction.
The porch is breathing.
STAY OUT OF MY SHROOMS YOU CUNT
I went to the strip club tonight. I had never gone, and in a panic I gave the dancer giving me a lap dance a handshake and introduced myself. Redefines business casual.
Good rule of thumb: only list personal references with whom you have hallucinated
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