i miss vodka and anonymity. college is so rich in both. in college we are a many armed creature, lubricated with beer and sex.
once he started yelling at me in latin, i wasn't sure what we were fighting about anymore...
just learned how to wash a penis. thank you nursing school for getting me the most action i've had in months.
fuck he's narrating my life in a british voice make him stop im way too fucking high for this
you grabbed his arm with one hand and the bottle of smirnoff with the other and headed off to your room you were on a mission
You just kept yelling at the cabby "I own this cab" and insisted on smoking with all the windows up
I'm promising sexual favors in return for his responsible life decisions. Now THIS is growing up.
Our relationship is representative of a cognitive bias that leads to bad decision making and misplacement of resources. So should we pick up some whiskey tomorrow?
I mean he gave me an 'I owe you an orgasm' fist bump
Would giving a bouquet of flowers to my mother be a good way to say, "sorry you walked in on my boyfriend eating me out"?
When we were done he got down next to the bed and I thought he was Tebowing. He was hitting a bong that he had already loaded and hidden under the bed.
I plan on blacking out and milking a cow
I'm in the smoking section between a transvestite molly dealer and a group of juggalos. I shouldn't be that hard to find.
I let him stay at my place since i had to work early and when i got home there was a fruit snack wrapper in my bed. I dont have any fruit snacks. Which means he brought his own fruit snacks to the fuck session.
These last few days with George, grandma, and now Carrie all dying have been pushing me further and further into rum's sweet embrace.
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