I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
suntimes in life you find a rare opportunity, mine was bonin my gf in front of the tv
you were asking all the dicks on chatroulette if they had daddy issues
dude, I'm passing out in the fifth floor janitors closet. Let me know when the rooms opened back up
Itd be like fucking a waterbed thats been locked in a barn for two years.
Where in the FUCK do you get your analogies
So update from last night: I made friends with a coke dealer, I tore the card scanner off the wall of my dorm, and I passed out on our bathroom counter with my head in the sink.
4:37 am. You're wearing underwear and carpet skates. Borderline crying. You want to punch Morgan. Have not stopped singing Give Your Heart a Break.
Had to immediately delete the Bevmo email because I can't even look at an email about alcohol right now.
My serious response to your Cathy tattoo inquiry- Do you ever want to get laid by someone not wearing a Blossom style bucket hat? Tattoo accordingly.
This morning was so rough I can't even. I was cutting up vegetables for my omelet on the floor. THE FLOOR. I sat on the floor because I felt like I was gonna vom.
She had pubes that could make an episode of Duck Dynasty. Fear the Vag Beard
By 9 pm this evening I'll have accomplished smashing with two different guys in two different time zones in the same day.
Stay hydrated
You fist bumped my dick last night saying good game. That you'll be back for the 2nd game...
Bachelorette party buss just rolled into down town. DTF, "horny hotties inside" and "show us your dicks" written on the windows....this could get interesting.
Your Saturday night was spent at the opera, mine was spent exchanging naked pics with a hot middle aged man that is so ripped that he looks like he's photoshopped. This is why we're blood sisters. We balance each other out.
I hate you so hard.
Randomize
