In case you were wondering, my scare crow is wearing your outfit from last night.
also. he gave me a foot massage during 69ing when i got a cramp. he's a winner.
he also begged me to fake an orgasm when he couldn't get me to come.
I hope he didn't notice that my shirt was inside out when I told him I didn't have sex with the guy. Kind of a dead giveaway.
Our sex bag has now been upgraded to sex luggage, with wheels, and now features a first aid kit. Game. On.
Wearing the 'Let's Party' thong feels weird without you...
ask me again when I'm sobewr aka tuesday
the last thing i remember was the norwegian kid tacking a bag of wine to the ceiling, then boom! shower drain.
My apartment is also really close to an alcohol rehab in case I get out of hand
No worries, I've prioritized my homework into "can do drunk" and "should be sober" categories. We're good.
I just blacked back in and I'm at a kids birthday party in a suit and people are calling me uncle Carl. Never having your homemade liquor again.
My sensibilities as a lady demand we cuddle on the couch, and THEN have loud, raunchy sex. Idk, what do you want to do?
My last memory of last night was being in a laundry room doing blow and admiring a washer and dryer... I think that's the earmark of old age
He took a shit in my shoe. A part of me is livid and a part of me is impressed because that’s some real evil genius.
I need you to know I’m weirdly very sexually attracted to Charlie Puth now
Randomize
