I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
i finally watched harry potter... a tad unrealistic if you ask me... i mean a ginger kid with 2 friends?
HOnestly. That's my one goal for this whole trip. I don't give a shit about souvenirs or sand. I want penis.
All I remember is holding on to the elevator asking it politely to stop spinning
I knew he was a nice guy, because when we switched positions he flipped the mattress so I wouldn't have to lay in a pool of his sweat.
He tried to say the picture wasn't him. Like I'd forget his curved boner.
Come over we're drinking with orange soda as a chaser to honor 90s nick kenan and kel.
When you hit the 45 minute mark of any argument about The Flintstones, you have to realize: it's no longer you arguing, it's the cocaine arguing.
Giiiirl. Just had a BM that almost killed me.
you said, 'he held out his hand, that means we don't have to pay' about the taxi driver, and then asked the doorman what happened to your pants...
I just found a grey hair. On my nipple. Fuck you too, Mother Nature.
As I walked across the lawn after the party got busted, an officer told me to chug my beer before I left the premises.
Do you know who these girls are? They're baking a cake, making chicken enchiladas, and bringing me beer everytime I finish one.
He passed out while I was riding him but stayed hard long enough for me to orgasm. He definitely earned the blow job I’m going to wake him up with in the morning!
I woke up in a warehouse with the words “Property of Adam” written on my chest in frosting.
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