I'm not really sure how I got home, but judging by this headache, i'm assuming it involved bourbon.
my desire to fuck abstract ideas (bravery, love, popsicls,,) increases by 8bajillion% when I'm high
He said I taste like butterscotch, licked me, then I'm pretty sure he wet his pants. So no, I do not want to invite him over.
My life has literally become a dickpocolypse. Thank you, summer, I missed you.
I don't want end up bound and gagged in the back of a van headed for rehab. Bound and gagged OK. Just not the rehab part.
I just found a thank you note I apparently wrote to my bed last night for letting me borrow the comforter.
You know me. Don't need roses, just dick and food.
Earned the respect of a group of freshman by chugging Das Boot while hanging out a window and lost it shortly after by wrecking a clown bike into them.
I'm being fed tequila grapes by a girl on stilts...
Sometimes I just want to serenade his penis with cheesy 80s songs.
Who are you to come into MY house and tell me when I can or cannot take my pants off?
"We drove to the deserted part of the parking lot, and that's where we blew each other. It was so romantic."
It's 2016 and I am a strong independent woman who just wants someone not weird to touch my butt, dammit
Far be it from me to tell you where you store your dildos but from an interior decorating standpoint not fucking there
You can't just bring up bondage and then stop answering me
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