I'm pretty sure my roommate has taken plan B more times than i've had sex. Not sure how that makes me feel.
The girl behind me at the dollar store said couldn't wait to get her permit, then requested a pregnancy test. God I love being home.
we do all of our sexting over chat on words with friends, so my boyfriend doesn't know about it when he looks at my texts.
I just don't want to have to pretend at every family function she brings him to that he didn't hit on me first
It smelled like mall pretzels. Of course I investigated.
I woke up and watched my kitten suck on his nipple. Way too hungover to intervene. He thought it was me, so he just giggled and mumbled "mmm girl."
Seriously? God I hope he wasn't lactating.
......... Poor kitty
That's cool. At least the punch line of my story isn't I shit in a booth at Denny's.
I just wanna go somewhere and not be judged for wearing spandex shorts that make my ass look like a slice of fucking heaven. Is that so much to ask??
When people ask about my bruises, I'm just going to say it was a doorknob. Or possibly a group of doorknobs. Angry doorknobs.
When our dicks touched he made a lightsaber noise.
You then played what you called "a smooth jazz rendition of talk dirty to me" all thrusting your crotch at the bartender. Mom looked horrified, but my dad couldn't stop laughing
His eyefucking isn't even normal eyefucking; it's eye anal.
My walk of shame is starting to become positively reinforcing; I stop by Starbucks and when I leave I look someone just heading to work.
Come over I need help. I just almost died in an acid flashback while listening to do You Feel Like We Do off of the Frampton Comes Alive album.
THERE IS JIZZ ON MY CEILING. HOW THE FUCK IS THERE JIZZ ON MY CEILING
Randomize
