so he was shitfaced and kept using sticky notes to label everything like "beer spill" and "going to fuck later"
You paid the taxi driver with a comb last night.
You were throwing ham at people telling them you were the sandwhich fairy
We made out for three hours. Then she said she didn't sleep with redheads and left the party. So yes, I'm still drinking.
Saturday dinner is funfetti cake and merlot. Singlehood has come to this.
I feel like I just need to fuck him after all his effort. like a "hey man good try" like those kids who get last place and still get a trophy.
Btw, just wanna point out that you've hooked up with two guys whose birthdays are today. Congratulations, you have a type!
He smashed a plastic chair leg on a tree stump, threw himself into the side of our metal enclosure, stomped on the wreckage for a bit and then punched the fire.
New carpet is nice. I'm making carpet angels. Like a fresh snowfall.
I pulled out moves I did not even know I possessed, our fucking de-throned gods
I want to see boobs tonight. Like, real ones. Your ones.
I'm romantic.
Trying to Jedi mind trick myself into not throwing up. This is not the esophagus you are looking for.
It's dollar drink night and I have my honors society initiation tomorrow. Somehow I think this will not end well.
We always have to do something together that tests the human limits of the body. Hopefully it has at least a 75% death rate.
But if you move out who will get drunk with me on the roof and yell at boys?!?
Randomize
