then you asked me to turn your jeans into "jorts" just long enough to cover your ballsack
We went to red robin and there was a 15 minute wait so we went and fucked in the car. Quickies, endless fries, and a mascot handing out balloons- this is literally the night of my dreams.
I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
He's had mdma poured down his throat. He's getting huggy.
I won't apologize to a one balled man
Thank you for FINALLY joining the Slutasorus Rex club in this conversation.
I have bruises from doing the splits on the poles, if that doesn't scream bourbon street regret then I don't know what does
I need an inhaler full of pot for all of this breathless rage.
We met up and made out in front of an empanada spot, if that's not romance then idk what is.
She just called at a dance party, and you stopped mid puke to join. Another successful night.
I met someone else! And I had a wonderful orgasm! And he wants to see me again, like take me out!
I wonder how long it will take her to realize that I peed in her night stand.
She did NOT find it funny to come upstairs to find me with the word "MISERY" written on my forehead in magic marker and the label to the vodka bottle replaced with a scrap of paper taped around that says "COMPANY"
I only live four blocks from the bar but when you're hammered this walk feels like the journey through Mordor.
Like at first he was barely doing anything. So I was like harder and then holy shit he's like going all HULK SMASH on my vagina. I mean it felt fucking awesome. BUT STILL
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