I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
He dated me before I started drinking. I feel like he deserves a consolation bj for all the effort he had to put in to get in my pants.
Somewhere between catching the stove on fire and not being aware of it being on fire while I'm in the living room. I drank too much.
there was 12 of us, girls included, shirtless and wielding swords as we bet on rock paper scissors in the middle of the bar. It was like Cinco de Mayo version of the Deer Hunter
I'm not making any promises. But if I start throwing food at you, just go with it.
Until you find your self finger banging supergirl in the middle of the dance floor while her friends are passing around for luigi mustache for a photo op, YOU HAVE NOT HIT MY LEVEL
I don't know. Something about answering "what did you do on Sunday?" Seems odd when the reply is, painted, went to the grocery store, put a restraint device on my bed.
Got head last night. Had the 3D glasses on the whole time.
So on a scale from 1-10 how gross is it that I used mortuary makeup on my own face?
Dude, we tried to feed you but you just started sobbing and ran away
I love you too! Remember NO alcohol or weed at my residence because of legal ramifications.
Dude, you need better judgement.Trust me I know. I put my dick in the wrong mouths all the time
He has a beach house and a Simba tattoo. Our wedding is next Tuesday, hope you're free.
Remember that guy that walked around our house naked with a boner wearing nothing but his winter coat? Well, he has a kid now.
Sorry 4 always trying to rope you into my sexual exploits
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