what if every blade of grass was a penis?
My RA just tried to write me up for having sex too loudly during quiet hours.
All he was doing was sitting in the car, staring. We asked him what was wrong and he just turned, smiled, and said "everything has its own pair of boots"
He told me he's not in to anal. I need to marry him, ASAP.
I'm Still in a robe trying to piece together 3-7am I'll be there in a few
I think mom knows I'm drunk I put a full blown balloon in the fridge.
like seriously. this whole place is the shit. like i can move clouds. no other way to explain it but i can fucking move clouds.
He's living a porn movie. He's slept with a waitress at her work for lunch, a bar tender at the bar that night, and the cleaning lady the next morning.
He kept humping my leg and whispering "dont worry, thats my phone not my penis"
Crying while listening to Miley Cyrus. BE GLAD YOU JUMPED THIS SINKING SHIP!
then a garbage truck rolls up to the club, they hop out, and walk right in like they own the place
It's all part of my master plan: have him buy me all I can eat pizza and all I can drink beer AND THEN tell him there was no spark and we're better off as friends.
Apparently 'ewww' is not the correct response to him saying he has to go to a funeral while I'm there.
I was just drinking but now I'm drinking and chasing with red bull. I call this "getting ready for work"
And for some reason every time I get drunk I just want to tell you that I have a mini secret personal fan club of your dick
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