there's no toilet paper. I'm using wheat bread.
And then she was like, "don't do anything. No blow jobs, don't let him stick his fingers in weird places because people have germs."
there were staples in my comforter. what kind of sex did we even have?
She's like the Michael Jordan of alcoholism
Trying to grind with crutches was not a success
PSA: Morning booty calls are no longer accepted after the hours of 6am when I've been drinking or before 11am when I have not. Your cooperation is appreciated.
I'm pretty sure the bus driver knew how hung over I was and hit all the pot holes on purpose. I threw up into my water bottle.
It makes showers more interesting trying to drink a gin and tonic and keep soap out of my eyes at the same time.
You need to calm down.
I can't wait for you to tell me about your sex.
It's a short, short story.
Your boyfriends underwear are hanging from my kitchen window. Where the fuck are you?!
I'm not sure how to explain it, but I feel like our penises have a connection. Like long lost brothers. We're not even gay.
I'm a girl who met my last three bfs in gay clubs. Think I'm doing something wrong?
I got St Patrick's Day drunk on Friday and apparently ordered a Total Gym in the middle of the night
I'm 80% sure I have pink eye. This is my penance for being a homewrecker.
We need a signal or code word for "I basically shaved my whole body and we should touch each other tonight".
Randomize
