Came home to a chalk baord that read:" Think like a rapist." Can't say I'm surpirsed.
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Care to explain to me why theres a baby food jar filled with semen in my fridge? or why its labeled as unicorn sweat?
i just made a "things you cannot forget to do this week just because you're high" list.
Whoever was the last to get in from the chinese firedrill had to pay the dealer.
I think I'm a wingman for every guy who bangs a girl I scarred in highschool.
I'm washing down the sadness with shots of vodka.
Also, I've finally come to the point in the relationship when having sex with socks on is ok.
I feel like we have a good system here turning our sketchy decisions into great stories.
I just wanna get drunk and go sledding in my kayak
I'm looking for whatever I can find, and afford without having to eat my emotional support cat
He told me to leave him behind and bury him in his batman pajamas. So two lessons I guess, don't give Tom whiskey and don't touch his daddy issues with a twenty nine and a half foot pole.
it wasnt weird until his dog watched upclose as i put a tampon in
I woke up next to a Big Mac box.. And had no sheets or clothes on. The night was a success I think.
I'll start cleaning the house tonight darlin. So you don't have to fuck your two boytoys in the driveway the next two days.
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