he texted me telling him i gave him the clap. but i think he gave it to me and i gave it back to him
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Life lesson #57: drinking whisky out of apples leads to threesomes.
It's 6 am and I've spent the last few hours searching for a cork screw or suitable substitute. You had none. Incidentally, I finally opened this bottle of wine, but owe you a new meat sticky thing with those two prongs. Sobriety is not good for me. Or your utensils.
The doctor told me if I woke up with a broken foot and don't know how it happened, I might want to look into getting treatment.
There is a good chance that the other night after a wedding reception i was at that i mailed you a drink coaster.
Post-shopping-cart-scooter-jousting victory fuck?
Also, being stuck with my family all week has made it very clear that I need to be drunk and I need to be fucked pronto
I'm serious. I have boob tassles if this is an exchange thing.
Sex was great. Left his house while he was asleep but on the plus side I was able to get gas station food.
I feel like we'd have a lot of fun being drunk at a dog show.
Im blaming it on six shots of Jack, loneliness and a chemical imbalance. That's the best I can think of...
A real best friend would support the hoe in me. Not remind me of what happened the last time I slept with a boss
He texted me at 4:30 in the morning saying "I'm not drunk but I think you're beautiful" and then a facebook message at 6 am saying "hi" and the subject was "oh"
I got confused. The music was loud, porn was playing, people were grinding, there were hand jobs.
Randomize
