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 sent me a friend request on facebook. i wish it were physically possible to vomit on him through the internet.
Too late. I'm going over there. I'm a bad example for all women: Do as I say, not who I do.
im sorry but my first introduction to your dick isn't going to be a pic sent from the men's room
You. Me. A bottle of Vodka. The wilderness.
Last comment. I know of no exercises, diets or practices out there to help keeping balls young and healthy. They simply succumb to gravity.
Twas the night before the bachelor party, and all thru the house...not a creature was stirring, not even a stripper?...
i should probably stop thinking with my vagina, and start using that $70, 000 education i can't afford. what the fuck.
when I came to get Jamie there was a cop standing outside with her, made me roll down my window to tell me "she's got to go cause she won't keep her shirt buttoned"
It's been over a year since we've been get-so-drunk-you-throw-beer-cans-at-fat-girls-drunk together. That needs to change.
Couldn't finish, so she gave me "the tap," and I had to leave the mound early. Nothing worse than the long walk back after the manager comes out and asks for the ball.
who the fuck is meatball and why is he telling you to nap on the bar
leads to pukin, then cryin, then 24hr masturbatin binge, then cryin again and finally a combination of all 3
He showed up to my apt at 6am wearing a suit and holding a bag of coke....how could I not let him in?
There's something about a foam party that makes freshman want to turn their lives into full blown shit shows. And I'm ok with the fact I am one of those.
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