I'm totally counting that party when he kept putting his hands down my pants as a date.
It's almost summer. We need to start reconnecting with our home drug dealers.
Who would have thought google would have HELPED me fail a test...not pass...thank you pacman, thank you google....
His concept of male bonding is doing lines in adjacent stalls.
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
My only regret is not throwing up on the conveyor belt in the dining hall
How dare you. Idk what you called me, and neither does google translate, but you better take it back.
So what your saying is I can use her desperation to my advantage. Fuck, this must be how pretty girls feel.
I faked more orgasms with him then ever should be allowed for someone this pretty.
For the sake of being nice I congratulated her and she replied with something along the lines of that I need to stay away from him and not touch him ever. I really wanted to be like "been there, done that" but my New Years resolution was to not start any cat fight over boys with small dicks before noon
It's has to do with my genitals. Don't ask.
Working nightshift means its never too early to start drinking- and you can quote me on that
I just took a condom out of my purse and opened it in front of my entire family because I thought it was a wetnap. Way too hungover for family brunch.
Like when your most normal sex dream is you being a prostitute, you know it's been one long ass dry spell.
Come over I need help. I just almost died in an acid flashback while listening to do You Feel Like We Do off of the Frampton Comes Alive album.
Randomize
