stop calling my apartment porn island.
i feel like our whole relationship was one big acid trip
he described going down on me as being like 'entering a jungle of deliciousness and fur
he asked you how you felt and you yelled "I FEEL SO PROACTIVE!" and started coloring with sharpies
passed a homeless guy with a sign that read "420 vetran" we gave him a bowl of bud
he fucked me to the beat of the construction going on outside my house. i will never look at jackhammers the same ever again.
God damn him and his understanding ways and little hip muscle things.
I was in the bathroom puking up mountains of tequila and when he came to help me, I held the door shut and kept yelling at him to let me be a lady.
He said the last thing he remembered thinking was: 'Why is this vagina spinning?' Too drunk sex is no ones friend.
The hypnotist is here. He has a black eye and smells like tequila.
He's mad about lube? You know what, don't even. I'm not in the proper mindset to discuss lube.
THERE IS A DOG IN THE CLUB. I repeat a dog in the club. I might have laid down and petted it..I have no shame.
The only words we could get out of him as he stared catatonically into space were "Everyone I know and love is dead"
getting my period the day i moved was my bodies way of saying 'congratulations youre not leaving town with anybodies babies!'
She just texted me saying "come over and eat me out, my vagina smells like honey glazed ham." I know I shouldn't be, but i'm just so curious.
Randomize
