You can't use the, "think about your future" line when trying to convince me to save some weed for tomorrow.
Good thing it was his birthday because I accidentally grabbed his dick at the bar. A lot.
It came up in court that I told the arresting officer my name was Thomas Jefferson, and I was born in 1776. I almost kept a straight face. Almost.
Fuck morning classes and our weekday drinking habits.
Bren left me with a lovely parting gift. Newfouund alcoholism. I'm on the kitchen floor, hugging a bottle of vodka. It's my only friend now.
Please God, is a penis possibly making it to vagina town to much to ask for tonight.
I remember just enough about last night to wish I didn't remember anything.
It wasn't so much skinny dipping. It more like skinny walking...through a fountain.
He showed me his night stand drawer...it has one too many sex things in it.
Exactly how many...is TOO many?
WHAT IF I SAT OUTSIDE AND STARTED SCREAMING THE LYRICS TO O CANADA WOULD THAT FIX IT
PLEASE DON'T
He called me kiddo. We can't have sex
Feels weird riding an elevator with my tongue in my own mouth.
I woke up and he already had a joint rolled waiting next to the bed. Love.
Standing naked in my kitchen making nachos. I love my youth.
You don't know happiness until you've got to smoke weed inside taco bell and then eat all you want for free
Randomize
