I'm sitting next to this guy at the bar. I wrote him a little song in my head it goes "there is no fucking chance you're getting in my pants" gonna sing it to him after he buys me another drink.
I'm like a new puppy, everybody wants to touch me
we got blazed and looked up peoples criminal records
You can't just send the picture of my vagina back to me, 2 months after we broke up, and make small talk out of it.
there was 12 of us, girls included, shirtless and wielding swords as we bet on rock paper scissors in the middle of the bar. It was like Cinco de Mayo version of the Deer Hunter
Emergency! LinkedIn connected me to a hotornot hookup from sophomore year... slutty phase sphere has officially invaded grown up professional sphere. My illusions of interweb sexual anonymity have been exploded.
That's your penis' name. I've always referred to it as Alejandro secretly.
We all make mistakes. Just lock them up deep down inside your mind so they can surface as weird sexual fantasies it takes your therapist years to decipher when your 40
Yeah. Not my best idea. But I'm hoping for the best . And by best, I mean not jail
It happened again.
What?
I lost in a drinking contest with my 84 year old grandmother. Two years in a row now.
Hooking up with him was lovely.. but waking up in his bed the next morning and finding double stuffed oreos... I mean.... I won
Last night you snap chatted some chick a pic of bottle service with the caption "send tits"
Does puke ruin car paint? Good thing it's raining.
Listening to sad Lana Del Rey songs together is an integral part of the lesbian bonding process
...hi
YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF
Ok cool I was afraid you'd never speak to me again. I can work with this.
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