when I scratched it gently some sort of watery looking stuff came out...so then I just stopped thinknig about it.
he believed the zit on my nose was a piercing...until he tried to bite it. needless to say he didnt ask for my number
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
No shame. Just smoked a bowl with a Norwegian. Feels like something to cross off a list.
It's because you were crossfaded. And because drinks were 3 dollars. And because they accepted credit cards.
She fell out the car soaking wet and screaming "im wearing a fedora!" then tryed to seduce him on the front lawn in front of his middle aged neighbor
I mean turning down birthday sex is never the answer
But he's not just anonymous male genitalia anymore. I've met him, I've seen his face.
I would say "man cannot subsist on sexting and brownies alone" but I think it's actually possible.
Was so close to hoppin on it but then I realize it's not a dick and I needed to keep walking. Primal instincts.
The only thing I know is that these arent my shoes and Aaron is missing and he has my house keys.
The perfect man would keep a whisky sour in my hand and give me endless sex. I really don't think that's too much to ask for.
I just took a service station dump so foul I had to buy gas out of guilt
The struggle bus has heated seats and stops at Dunkin on Friday mornings so I'll be okay.
The bartender remember my drink from last sat. I think we just became drocals...drunk. locals.
Randomize
