This is some kinda fucked up sordid doggy brothel peepshow bullshit.
Walked into a liquor store bleeding. That kind of night.
Pre warning. Your not gonna sleep tonight cuz I'm staying with your roommate. Thanks for breaking up with me.
So was it you or me who decided it was a good idea to inscribe fuck you on the counter?
That was me. Just a 'welcome to our home' kinda thing.
I feel like I can hear facebook. What did we smoke?
Those titties aren't worth a lifetime of listening to her talk about gluten free yams and japanese manga.
I know it's not technically the "Mile High Club" but we def need a name for the airport bathroom. Cuz that just happened.
I told him if he ever gets a "wink" text from me after 10:00pm to assume I really mean "we should be hooking up by 2:30am"
Don't need my thirties to be known as the decade of "new types of shits from drinking" like last night.
Thou shall not get drunk and hit bitch cup in pong and take shirt off while wearing a see-through lace bra again
"I wonder if vinegar is some sort of magical hangover cure" "...no I was definitely still drunk and drinking vinegar because I was thirsty"
Then his buddy called and said "my car broke down, I need a ride. If I'm not home by midnight they'll extend my house arrest." And I knew it was time to leave.
Apparently I handcuffed myself to the dishwasher...
Accent: check. Hot body: check. 8" dick: check. Feeds me biscuits in bed after rampant sex: check. Should I continue with my "Why I'm not coming back to the States" List?
Very mixed signals tonight. He gave me the best handjob while gloating about the Superbowl to his dad on the phone. When he was done he left me on the sofa alone for ten minutes before returning with wet wipes beer and nachos.
Randomize