So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
I think I deserve the nobel peace prize for discovering that one should smoke before drinking instead of drinking before smoking.
hey. who tried to drive me home last night?
not sure. we got lost. what do you mean "tried"?
i'm still in their car. parked on the beach. no one else is here. i have on different pants.
Wish I didn't live with 3 girls so I could beat off in peace.
can you look at this picture and tell me if you think this my kid?
Why are you speaking in third person?
Because I'm so hungover that I don't even want to be myself anymore.
I mean...he was throwing up for almost 3 consecutive hours. I don't think there's a chance in hell that would have tasted even close to tolerable.
We bonded over blowjobs and stories of our childhoods. It was beautiful.
I wouldn't be surprised. You and I have basically synced up our brain chemistry by doing drugs together in the same way that two girls would sync their menstrual cycles by sharing a house.
Just you wait I'll be crying and puking everywhere in no time
Just woke up in his bed wearing only his shoes. I don't know how to gently say hey dude get the fuck up and take me home....regardless these are some nice shoes.
I'd like to be surprised that there's a picture of someone pouring champagne in my boobs on Instagram, but I can't.
As yoda would say; A bitch, she is.
He sat down, pointed at my Converse and said "I have the same shoes." I thought "I'm going to have sex with you by the end of the night."
the only reason I'm still sleeping with him is to get the university's secure wifi password
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