I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
I am so stoned and my professor is handing out candy. I love Halloween.
Don't pretend like we're functional. We're gonna discuss this drunkenly via text the way serious conversations should take place.
There are two things I love in this world. Dick and cats. Why can't I just have dick and cats forever
He's basically me if I was an 8-yr-old boy. It's like looking into a pudgy terrifying mirror
It's like some sort of initiation to finger one of them... so I did it. And got high fived afterwards like a dozen times.
Those were right hand only?
I live vicariously through you. No one mistakes me for a hooker anymore. I look like a stay at home mom of three. On bad days of four.
I specialize in how to hang out and party with randoms after you've hooked up with them. Not in feelings.
I woke up and discovered I gave new meaning to the term "pizza pockets" yes it's exactly like it sounds like
we should definitely drink gin again. soon.
I know he's gay. But if he touches my vagina I'm human centipeding his face. Sorry not sorry
At least his std test came back clean, gotta look at the positives here
That shit was hard as fuck. It felt like a mountain entering my vagina.
I've only fucked to 2 Fleetwood Mac songs, that must be why my life feels so empty.
you know my pussy doesn't know between good and evil
I'm naked and there are two trees and a yield sign
Be right there
Randomize
