Just barfed in my hand. Needless to say, this day is off to a great start
my brother is a facebook fan of two things: God, and Rhianna. if he's not a prime example of the rare "baptist closeted gay," i don't know who is.
I dinstinctly remember making out to "I believe I can fly" and waving my arms like a bird to the beat.
Never underestimate the healing power of vomiting and a bath.
we have to get out to the bar earlier. all of the guys are already committed to the girls they're going home with.
that awkward moment when your booty call gets snowed in at your place.
It wasn't really sex. It was just rolling around, trying to make sure his dick didn't end up in my ass.
I guess I realized I had a problem when I ordered 4 shots and told the bar wench to pour them all into 1 glass
I made her orgasm until she cried. Four years of only having sex with dudes and I've still got it.
You tried to pay for our cab with the 2 dollars you got from selling your natty ice outside the strip club.
I walked in, the bartender looked at me, grabbed 3 shot glasses and a pounder. Lined them up on the bar then made a line with salt on the other side of them and said I wasn't allowed to cross it.
That's so awful of me. Instead of comforting her I masturbated in front of my ex-boyfriend.
He put his SoundCloud on his Tinder bio. I felt personally attacked.
all I remember is grinding on everyone in the room regardless of gender and quoting the lion king non-stop. We need to stop buying Jameson.
Just got hit on by a 28-year old, quadraplegic, triple-cancer-survivor redneck. Now updating bucket list to meet newfound standards.
Randomize
