So the last day on the vacation I woke up in the bath tub. My mom said she asked me during the night what I was doing and I said, "swimming."
Im starting to realize why people dont masturbate while driving
let me put this in terms we both understand. he was the crunchwrap supreme of men--the perfect combo of all things manly, gooey and delicious. and ready for instant enjoyment.
he obviously didn't care that i was sleeping and dreaming about ellen degeneres knitting me a christmas sweater.
He managed to scream "cowabunga bitch" before he went down on me. Let me know if you still like him.
He had to carry me to the car. But then sat with me and waited for me to sober up enough to have sex. He's a keeper.
I just had a flash of me drinking straight vodka out of a condom...
I'm the saddest girl in a tutu right now.
I mean you can't really blame him. He's named after whiskey and I don't get along with pants.
Like, he's a nice guy. But he's better at fingering than he is at speaking.
This is what my life has come to. Like, I may or may not have just stolen pizza from the guy I just hooked up with's fridge when I left...
Jesus Christ that hit just spoke to so many levels of my soul. It's caressing them softly
It was at the same house, but a different party, when lesbians set me on fire. So there's that.
Tomorrow is my favorite texting day of the year... It's where I send every guy I've had sex with this past year a text saying "happy not a Father's Day" and we laugh and I get so much dick it's wonderful.
at the time fanning him with a dish tray seemed like a good idea but when we found it buried in the dirt the next morning i questioned our judgement. needless to say he still threw up even with the extra breeze.
Randomize
