she fell down the flight of stairs and was fine until she saw the two broken beer bottles on the ground by her.
thats a woman
I projectile vomited into my sink. Jealous?
Kind of. My puke would have just dribbled down my chin and missed the sink completely.
Ohh that happened after I started to cry.
I had five suicidal voicemails from him when I woke up this morning. They all started and ended with "DON'T FUCK MY ROOMMATES".
It was only one, it doesn't count.
You were too busy being proud of your penis shaped pancakes to notice...
of all the people in our graduating class, this is exactly who would get pregnant.
I've been meaning to ask you. The first night in the city did we do key bumps with a suicidal homeless man? My memory is fuzzy
I am so 35 right now. Listening to REM, drinking red wine, and crying over an article about ecstasy in oprah magazine.
He couldn't stand on his own, but he managed to somehow to get to the beer garden and get served 3 more. I'm proud to call him my cousin.
5 am booty call.. And I went I need to gain better control of my vagina
I no longer see him as a simple set of male genitalia attached to a very sexy body. The title "trophy fuck" seems wrong. Damn.
You can fuck me but I'm keeping my parka on.
I no longer exist. I have transformed into a puddle of sex.
I just ate cottage cheese and went to the gym at 6 this morning...the things i'll do because I might get naked in front of a new boy
I'm pretty sure that's why we have such good sex because we are secretly trying to kill each other
The thing about being single is like Sunday morning sex is nice but so is Sunday morning eating Nutella from the jar in your underwear
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