Sry I called you an 8
Well for one thing, she was eating rice with a shot glass.
Girls behind me in the library are trying to outslut each other with stories from last semester. I'm about to set my cock on the table between them and label it "tie breaker"
We've finally come to the understanding that as long as our conversation stays stricaly sexual, we get along.
i was so worried that when his hands were down my pants he was going to find the weed i stole from him
I just stood next to my childhood self. Fuck, I'm really stoned...
That awkward moment when the guy you hooked up on spring break invites you over for dinner to meet his parents and you say yes because the first rule of college is never turn down a free meal.
THE SHIT YOU GET YOURSELF INTO
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'm starting to think you fell asleep on your kitchen floor pantless with salsa spilt around you
when I went into his room, he was sleeping on his stomach, almost as if to silently say, "you're not touching my dick tonight".
Look on the bright side: Now that I'm sleeping with both the exs it's good bye to drunk sexting the 'wrong one'.
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
You told the entire smokers deck that you were blowing .08 now and anyone else willing later
I feel like satan and death had a baby that took a shit that replaced my brain.
Okay, so is being determined to have my vagina licked by a woman on Valentine's day an acceptable goal?
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