im pretty sure one of the guys i was dancing with at graffiti wrote on my back "you rock". now feel like a danced with a 5 year old.
I think jizz is working it's way to becoming my number 1 food source.
Packing up everything in the dorm. Silly bands to unused condom ratio is ridiculous.
He said i looked like a shooting star sprawled out on the floor while i puked and i kept blaming "senor cuervo" for doing me dirty.
I called for backup and had two guys carry him to the shower. The bigger guy offered to wash his hair.
I come bearing gifts of whiskey and vagina
my vagina hasn't met your boyfriend yet ... makes me sad
I'm on acid right now in three feet of snow. I NEEEED YOOOOUUUU
So his 25th anniversary post of love to his wife was almost verbatim what he said to me last week. Does that mean I win or lose?
The hardest part about being a child of divorce is when you're at your dad's house but your condoms are at your mom's house.
There something liberating about walking through the dorm hallways without pants on.
After we finished, she peed a little on my chest and told me she was "marking her territory". I didn't know if I should have been scared or aroused.
It's like we're in an emotionally distant three-way and there's not even sex to show for it.
I may or may not have spent student loan money on a vibrator, that falls under living expenses right?
The wine is franzia the food is cheese puffs there is a canoe full of beer and the andre glasses are mason jars glued to candle sticks. i shit you not. Best. Wedding. Ever.
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