...so i touched it.
The old woman next to me on the el smells like cupcakes...but she doesn't taste like cupcakes
woke up in my one night stand's bed and barfed all over her floor. she came back from the bathroom, looked at the vomit, looked at me and said "normally i'd tell you to clean it and get the fuck out, but i remember the sex was good, so i'll let it go." Score.
she's laying in my bed with an ice pack on her vagina. how do you think it went?
Maybe it was silver. I don't know. I was drunk sifting through my dogs vomit.
20 bottles of wine, 3 cases or beer, and 5 bottles in my kitchen... My parents are teasing me.
Last thing I remember was wondering why there was a mirror on the wall behind the urinal and then realizing I was pissing in the sink.
I refuse to apologize. Any dick that comes that close to my face uninvited is gonna get bit
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
He ran into the room yelling "attack! Attack!", jumped on top of me on the air mattress, popped the air mattress, and then we had victory sex, because he was proud of popping it.
It's a never ending cycle of men I've fucked knowing other men I've fucked. I need a new town.
My new successful method of booty calling is sending a screencap of a map with the shortest route from their location to mine highlighted.
I spent all the money my grandpa gave me for Christmas last night….solid start to 2015
Getting dome in the backseat of a friends car with Ariana Grande playing in the background was probably the most romantic part of my night
but if we have a President Trump come Tuesday, I might throw myself off the Walt Whitman Bridge so Thursday might not work for me after all.
Randomize
