No, I'm a firm believer in "Swallow or it isn't love."
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
i had a dream that i had so much marijuana that i didn't know what to do with it. i woke up and cried.
I finally got laid.. you said it wouldn't happen.
Can we please just celebrate being alive this far into the school year and just get drunk?
Exactly. So he deserves crazy "thanks for keeping me out of jail" sex. Or an "I'm glad your excessive cocaine habit had some positive outcomes" blowjob.
I remember three things: you falling down an entire flight of stairs, me stripping out of your Christmas one-sie to do cartwheels in my underwear, and people standing above me saying, "where did that bump on her head come from?"
Also, I was told I kept the antlers on the entire time. I'm deeming last night a success.
She's planning a December wedding, I'm planning on a June breakup.
Almost there.
define "almost". like I have enough time to watch a youtube video or oh shit, put on some goddamn pants because they're in the driveway.
Bless her heart. Her stupid, drunk, adderall-ed heart.
I'M SO LONELY THAT I TEXTED THE FRESHMAN
How do I have sand in my vagina if we were an hour away from the beach?
I think he might be using me for sex. I also think I might be ok with that.
I HAVE DISCOVERED LONDON AND IT FILLS ME WITH JOY
#tbt to when you let me put plastic wrap on your balls and hum a little song
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