You're the 8th person from last night to text me this morning and ask if I'm ok.
Ok. In one sink is a hairdrier. Still plugged in. The other is filled with broken glass. What do I do?!
Nvm. Bloody hand trumps dead. Also, where is gauze.
He kept buying me shots of tequila. I decided to just save myself the half hour of toilet hugging and tell him straight up that I intended on sleeping with him. We got Tacos on the way home with all the money we saved.
I take your lack of response to mean that your hands are taped to 40 ounces of something.
You walked away saying that you had to pee and you never came back. We found you an hour later in his roommate's bed. Under the covers. Still in your wet bathing suit.
I think he's in need of mouth to penis resuscitation. Which I happen to be certified
You're about to fuck a guy with a sweatshirt tied around his waist like a mensurating 13 year old. Get your priorities straight, you're graduating tomorrow.
Mark just took 50mg Viagra. Tonight should be interesting for the neighbors.
You don't have a wife, you don't have a dog, and you need a new bong. Don't make this any worse than that.
You just sat there for two solid hours staring at your monitor and every five minutes screamed "LEGOOOOOS"
I'M WORRY THAT MY VAGINA WILL NEVER KNOW THE TOUCH OF A MAN AND YOU ARE MAKING A MIXTAPE
Oh and yeah that does count as public urination.
I just want to dump glitter on my floor and roll in it like a cat in catnip.
In the morning he said my plan to make 2 casseroles today was, "hot in a grandma sort of way," & I didn't think it was weird. THAT'S how hot he was.
I'm totes in the mood to go home and like blindly inhale dangerous amounts of porn
Randomize