Reason #57 I am going to fail the bar... it's Tuesday and i'm drunk at Toy Story 3.
i feel like our whole relationship was one big acid trip
She just ended a sentence with "and he doesn't even mind my herpes..."
I wouldn't necessarily say I'm in her pants...I'd say I'm more on the on ramp to the freeway to the long way to her pants. There really isn't a short cut.
Someone just asked if you were the one who rode around the bar on some girls back
Then he wanted a handjob in the car. While my cousin was driving. To krispy kreme. And there was someone else in the backseat.
Jesus...So southern.
My blowjobs put them in a state of relaxation similar to that of getting hit with a tranquilizer. The fear comes after the sex.
You should not be allowed to go away on the weekends I plan on getting drunk on. I need someone to stop me from punching this guy in the face. It's simple room mate etiquette.
I cannot describe the pre-ejaculative horrors thru the medium of text messaging
Drinking a bawls. If I'm dead when you get home, yes, they are poisoned.
We're not piercing ourselves today.
My throw up tasted like pumpkin, fall is right around the corner.
But I did discover that he's totally okay with going down on me while I eat taco bell so that's a plus, right?
I WANNA... wait, will you kinkshame me?
Nah.
I WANNA KNOW WHAT HE SMELLS LIKE
I’ve had a lot of vodka, 3 different dicks and no food since last night. Come get me
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