He's prob getting laid right now and I'm sitting alone in my duct tape shoes.
I can hear the condescending tone from the atm when it asks if $3 is all I would like to deposit
Fastest blow job ever. Though it was probably a good thing since we were in front of my house.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
She only remembers me when she's drunk. It's like I'm a suppressed memory that only surfaces with alcohol.
Whatever, the fact of the matter is that I saved you from poorly planned outdoor sex by doing a rain dance and you should totally thank me.
I am getting drunk. And i'm going to paint my face and slide down the stairs like Pochahontas. Goodbye
The walls are thin & apartments are narrow so all the bedrooms are next to each other. Our complex could compete in synchronized orgasms.
Hostess is going out of business we'll never survive the apocalypse
He doesn't drink liquor so instead of doing a body shot off my belly button he dropped water in there and sipped it out with a straw. Look at my face: =|
After we had sex he told me it was a "goodbye gift". We haven't talked since.
He washed his dick in my kitchen sink after sex. I think he might be a keeper.
Blacked out and Irish exited last night. At dinner. On a Sunday.
I almost accidentally threw him out a window during sex last night.
Woke up next to my vibrator and a recipe for fudge brownies. If that doesn't scream I NEED TO GET LAID, then I don't know what else could.
Randomize
