The walk of shame is far, far worse on crutches.
I'm starving. my midnight snack, aka a teaspoon of cum, isn't holding me over
so many types of cookies right now. i'm eating four kinds of cookies that i've made into larger cookie sandwiches. too high. whoa.
no memory loss, but i'm unhappy with my memories
yes he's amazing in bed. he made me like, black out. everything went black it was weird. so yes, i'd fuck him again. plus, he has every season of buffy on dvd
I had five suicidal voicemails from him when I woke up this morning. They all started and ended with "DON'T FUCK MY ROOMMATES".
It was only one, it doesn't count.
The guy is drinking 5 bottles of beer in a juice pitcher. Fucking amazing.
I will forever be haunted by the image of you hurrying to finish your Jimmy Johns sandwich in the Taco Bell drive thru so you could proceed to order $17 dollars worth of shitty Mexican food.
It would be like if I said I had the cure for cancer and my explanation was I like turtles.
So, last night I fell asleep sitting Indian-style on the floor, propped up against the front of the couch with an empty wine bottle in between my legs... How was your night?
I bet Billy Ray Cyrus wishes he had pulled out now....
I'm sitting at dinner with my family looking over sexts. The thirst is far too real. They're talking about retail and I'm like haha, yes, you are all correct.
After we hooked up he started to cry and called his mom and told her he wanted to marry me
She was giving me head, and a cop pulled up next to us. I freaked when he looked over at me, but so did he and rear ended the car in front of him.
You know it's a good May 2-4 when it involves 14 straight hours of vodka slush and garlic bread
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