I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Would love to except that I crashed into a hearse in a funeral procession about an hour ago so I think that pretty much put an end to my day.
Dude. No way. She insults the term butterface. She's a butternothing.
cum and cheesecake for breakfast...don't fucking tell me pride week isn't awesome
he said i give him, and i quote, "emotional blue balls"
Upon further investigation it turns out it wasn't blood, but chocolate frosting from the cupcake I shoved in my pocket to "save for later"
That feels better than graduating college or that time I tried to ride a llama. Did you know they really spit?
Yeah I was convinced everyone knew I was high. Time was passing way too slowly for anyone NOT to notice.
I only call her for sex and medical advice. She admitted she feels like a worried parent when her phone rings at 5 a.m.
I felt so bad but my urge to be with you & drunkenly eat your face was apparently much stronger.
Jasmine is diving into bushes again.
So you told me to remind you that you vomited 3 times in the street because you would forget so here is your reminder
"She's seriously grinding on him while whispering into his ear, 'take me to McDonald's.'"
Every time I start to trust vodka, it does this to me.
I'm a fuck boy trapped in a single mom's body.
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