I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
i love rice pilaf. whoever invented that i would give them a hug.
I'm sitting on the patient chair, waiting for my vagina to be violated & "i don't want to miss a thing" has been playing on repeat. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME.
Part of my whole not being a slut anymore involves not giving other peoples boyfriends blowjobs
he was alternating between taking bites of butter and bagel. he said it was easier than finding a knife
Things I just found under my covers: protein bar, string cheese, vibrator.
dude throwing a golf cart off a pier is harder than it seems!
Note to self: Don't go home with a recent divorcee. Semen and tears.
You may now shotgun with the bride
So I put a beer on your bed and jumped on th3 other side of the bed like in the commercials. You my good sir, owe me a budweiser that your bed drank.
You came running into my room at 4 in the morning yelling "SANCTUARY!" and flung yourself into bed.
Hmmm, sounds like a Jaeger night then. Did I at least get to be the little spoon?
it's too much effort for something that isn't food.
you can only text me tonight if its in drake lyrics. thats the rule
I am so not sober enough to have a 5 minute conversation in Spanish
You wouldn't put pants on to see my parents.
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