I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
I have a voicemail from Mike at 1am. He starts to say something, but then throws up instead.
he couldn't find his key, so we just had sex on his parent's porch while we waited for his mom to get home.
Dude... You bled on his hand... At this point it doesn't matter that you called him your exes name, seriously.
just had an awkward elevator run in with that guy you puked on
My last two google searches are "shiny things" and "Ohio consent laws." you should visit more often.
you showed up at my door at 3am, handed me a bag of cold chicken nuggets and said "lead me to the non-irish Siobhans," do YOU think you were tripping?
Sure go ahead and start this 'business' with him...just don't come crying to me when you have to fake your own death in two years
I was doing karaoke to "baby got back" and apologizing for being white at the same time.
I'm eating a subway sandwich in the bathtub because I don't want to move. God bless boys from Brooklyn
Don't forget to make sex 3rd on your calander
I told him you're making deviled eggs for the party. Sisters make deviled eggs to get their sisters laid. It's science.
All I need is to get out and get laid
Yeah mom sounds like a good idea! Now send that message to the person it was ment for
WHAT THE FUCK DREAM ME
I'M GONNA PUNCH THAT BITCH THE FUCK DID SHE THINK SHE WAS DOIN
I have filthy fantasies involving his tongue. My vagina almost exploded while he was licking that ice cream cone.
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