Improvement. She went from pretending she was the soccer ball in the world cup games and it hurt when they kicked her to passed out on the floor.
Update: we are pushing the start of day drinking back from 9 am to 10 am. Minor delay.
He just climbed off me and used my hairspray to fix his hair. If he hadn't just gone down on me I would think he's gay.
Okay. But I hope it isn't expensive lingerie. Because I'm ripping it off Hulk Hogan style.
As I type I'm climbing my cousins swingset so I can take a nap inside the slide. Fuck this hangover. I always win.
six ambien and a bong later...he was calling me blueberry princess who need rescuing from the evil oven, and he was sir Eatsalot.
Fried chicken is a must. Do strippers eat fried chicken or should I plan on something else?
Get drunk. Masturbate to his picture. Fall asleep. Repeat. Fuck summer.
I am on my usual post-jerkoff high of eternal happiness. Like I could punch a fucking tiger.
It has moved into the cliche "thin line between love and hate" real quick. With her. Not Taco Bell.
mid-october of freshman year. goals have shifted from "no more guys on my floor" to "all the guys on my floor."
He said 'I really struggle with the sin of lust' then we proceeded to have sex. So I guess it was a perfectly executed Catholic pick up line?
Let's make this a nightly thing. You'll explain the Watergate scandal like you're telling me a bedtime story while I eat popcorn high as fuck
Remember, I smoked so you wouldn't have to. I'm like the Jesus of Marijuana.
Nothing is more confusing than dreaming about being chased by jets, then waking up with an erection.
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