I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
the number of months ive had a girlfriend in my life divided by the number of blowjobs ive gotten is extremely depressing...
jess passed out on the pong table. it was depressing until we started singing shania twain an hour later and heard her muffled voice singing along.
God I love babysitting. They pay me $10 an hour to watch movies and sext
There was a note in my hello kitty underwear telling me "don't go over 9000"
Using that mug my little cousin painted for me as an ashtray for my weed...at least next time he asks me if I'm using it I can say yes
got delayed, meet you at the bar soon, found a shopping cart, i am now getting pushed to the bar by some guy that was peeing in the alley i found the cart in
When we asked you how you got there you replied in all seriousness, "rode my legs"
I was looking at your puke while I was peeing in it the next morning and that ceasar salad did not treat you well
I sexy timed too hard and there is an ass shaped piece of a ping pong table now missing bc of it. How am I allowed to leave the house without a helmet?
I woke up to her screaming at the various pictures of nutsacks she found on her camera
I'm hoping that by this time next year we will be smoking some weed at a gay wedding, asking "Mitt who?"
You should have thought about how you were going to treat me before having me take photos of your asshole.
Apparently this establishment won't let you rent a sailboat if you have been drinking rum all morning
Like, bro, how do you think I got the idea to go sailing
Judging from the sharpie on my face, glitter on my chest and women's tiger print panties i'm wearing last night was a thing.
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