They call it the Collection Couch because all 4 room mates have slept with at least 3 different girls on it. He tried to seal the deal with "would you like to be number 14?"
And sadly I did.
I woke up at 3am naked and stroking a watermelon.
One of the bamboo sticks broke and impaled him. I think he's drunk enough that it shouldn't hurt until tomorrow.
We fucked to techno music while he wore shin guards... best sex ever.
Blacked in riding a tandem bicycle with a stranger. We stopped for hot dogs.
I never thought the first time a taser would be used on me would be at an applebees
I accidentally peed all over the couch. It's safe to say I'm not welcome at that house anymore
No, trust me. Falling down the stairs is a fucking sobering experience.
Don't get me wrong, I love talking about lube and such, but why are we?
Ugh. I guess I'm crying loudly or something. My mom just came in and gave me milk, chocolate, a Xanax, and her weed "for the break up blues". Her ways of affection are so odd.
That's just weird. That doesn't make sense sexually at all. I mean, you might as well tape a pen to the tip and try and write your name while you're at it.
I just realized I slept with a guy who used the pickup line "do you have a bandaid? I skinned my knee when I fell for you."
I just ate cream cheese straight for my dog
I'm afraid to ask what that means
No? The only contact I've had with him for months was when I drunk texted him from Costa Rica to say that all jazz sounds the same
Woke up in my boxers on a subway with a phone number written on my arm in lipstick..Best Night EVER.
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