There is something about listening to Patsy Cline while pooping that makes the experience so much better.
so i walk in and shes blowing her vag with a hair dryer. so i asked what she was doing, she said heating up supper.. come eat ;)
i'm so jealous of you right now.
just peed in the tub. didnt notice the passed out drunk guys there until a minute in
So for a second i just thought clitoris was a disease.
Well, find something you can use as a snorkel and be aware of your surroundings.
composition of my stomach right now: 60% C8H10N4O2 * H2O (coffee), 20% CaCO3 (pepto bismol/tums), 10% HCl (stomach acid), 5% fried rice, 5% residual adderall. i can do that by percent mass too. fuck you finals.
Memorial weekend is going to be amazeballs. Jungle juice, drunk guys, and my vagina being stimulated by the vibrations of a 4 wheeler. I mean there is no way that can go wrong.
I'm going to have to start sleeping with my keys taped to my stomach.
Then he claimed me as his prize for 3rd place in a wing eating contest. Too romantic.
That feeling when you're ready to convert to the religion of whatever god will stop the vomit. Dynamite is illegal.
He's a loser but she says we just don't see the good stuff about him. It's like she's dating the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree.
He kept kissing me on the cheek when I was pretending to sleep while he cried
Orgasms and cereal.... that's what life's about.
He tripped and fell all the way to the ground and then stood right back with out spilling a drop of his 3/4 full glass of rum and coke. It was like watching something from the matrix
That butt dial turned into a booty call.
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