win or lose for butler, i'm still masturbating to brad stevens tonight
chlamydia ends and my period begins. this isnt real life
I'm already mentally preparing myself for the fact that I'll probably be sleeping next to a toilet.
the fire alarm went off. we werent sure whether to leave or turn the music up louder
You can come over, sure. But I'll be watching college hockey during the blow job.
the back of my hand read, "say no to drugs." my palm read, "say yes to shots." when the fuck did I write that?
I love you more with every blowjob.
You should write for Hallmark.
After so many times of carrying your puked covered clothes home in a bag on a Tuesday morning, you begin to realize that Fucked Up Mondays aren't a real thing.
I need to stop getting so excited when a guy unzips his pants and its bigger than my boyfriends. I look like a kid in a candy store.
Can't talk right now. I'm doing tequila shots with my professor at some Mexican bar. That's how I prepare for finals.
All the party invite said was a date and "21 to drink, 18ish to sleep over"
some how during sex we caught an ENTIRE pillow on fire. A WHOLE PILLOW.
I am drunk at 8am listening to Cyndi Lauper and dressed up in a penguin suit
meow
use your words like a big girl
i ran over your cat.
i told him the only way i'd fuck him was if he saved me during the zombie apocolypse and took me to a tastefully decorated yet impenetrable hideout.
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