I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
you kept screaming i cant feel my vagina, it kinda killed the mood.
Cop gave me a ticket for public drunkedness, and then I convinced him to drive me back to the party
I sat alone in Buffalo Wild Wings eating chocolate cake on Country Western karoake night. The waiter asked me if I was ok. Twice.
I just want one of her status not to be about Jesus.
i think i have that disease where you wake up in strange places drunk.
What the fuck am I going to do with a pinata full of tampons?
Sometimes the gods of alcohol choose to take you on a mysterious journey and you just have to go with it
On the plus side, I know I'm allergic to latex now. Like really fucking allergic
I just noticed that pic of your cock has a Christmas tree in the background. It's July.
Tonight I researched being a phone sex operator and teaching English at a French school in Africa. I think my future lacks direction
The fact our science teacher from high school was buying us drinks and hitting on me doesn't matter.
Just had to break it to that one guy that I can't sleep w him bc he looks identical to my brother. So how's your morning?
If you can't trust the person at the taco cabana drive thru, who can you trust?!
Question: how does one descretely ask the ice cream truck driver thats out at 10:00pm if he sells weed?
Randomize
