The professor just announced to the class that I talked to him in the bar on my birthday.
Drunk. I slept-stripped.
By myself.
The two guys from next door helped him do a backflip. The ended up throwing him halfway through a ceiling tile. Don't worry, we fixed it with duct tape.
I cant tell which is worse. That its only my third time doing laundry this year or that its the first time ive done it sober.
He was handing out home-made business cards that read "finger slamming bitches since 1986"\n
I knew it would be an interesting night when he showed up at my house on a scooter wearing a six foot american flag as a cape.
I tried to talk to him, but he didn't recognize me at first. I had to show him the top of my head and then he remembered.
I showed up to a booty-call in my onesie pajamas and rubber boots
My gyno overestimated by 3 TIMES the amount of sex we have per week. First of all, he must think I'm a freak. Secondly, I think we should catch up.
Will give head in exchange for a Netflix password. Serious inquiries only please.
Can't. Busy recovering from the worst pulled muscle of my life that I got either from excessively acrobatic boning or carrying a huge fucking ice luge down the street while wearing 4 inch heels
My nose was gushing blood and he just kept screaming "she took it like a champ" to everyone there. Plus side though, bartender felt bad for me and gave me a free drink.
You got your ass kicked outside KFC on Tuesday
See and now you're talking. I am like the fairy godmother of hook ups.
You can help me! We'll make an occasion of it. Have some rum, make some smores, condemn the email system to the pits of hell...
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