last night was a success...if success means i don't remember the guy's name and my panties are somewhere in the parking lot behind the bar
a guy in a toll booth on I-90 told me to fuck off for not being a red sox fan. i am going to miss massachusetts very much.
foreplay: 7 minutes. sex: 3 minutes. cuddling: 10 minutes. getting dressed: 5 minutes. commute: 5 minutes.
Getting pregnant off pre-cum is like getting high off erasers
I honestly wish you had parked the car in the terminal garage and fucked me in the backseat but I guess I should be more forward
Yeah...I know. It's cute I think...I mean cute in a weird like hey I kinda took you home from the bar one night, maybe criticized your penis, and fucked your brains out...kinda sorta way
Not sure if it is a new high or new low, but i left a basket on the porch of the sorority I woke up at. It had a description of the Minnie Mouse I woke up next to, and Plan B.
Travis is back on this booty and burgers thing. If I'm his delivery service for food he better fuck me how I want.
We're not on Beacon Street anymore so now your argument about not peeing on the sidewalk holds no water. Whereas my bladder has holded every water.
Awkwardly walking by your fuck buddy and waving a casual hi in his direction like nothing has happened is probably the best thing in my life
I realized after pounding back 151 and head banging into each other to "the drop" of that dub step song, that we weren't meant to have boyfriends at this point in time.
This dudes playing guitar and singing outside our window and he's like "ravioli is beterrrrrrr than tortelliniIii cause tortelliniiii is shaped like fucking ears"
maybe i should limp back to therapy...
oh yeah will you also bring home vodka i wanna do shots on the roof
So your telling me I can lick your ass but you CAN'T spend my money
I woke up with leftover chocolate syrup on my nipples. WTF happened last night??
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