So I just had this crazy idea, and no it has nothing to do with the fact that they made me take shots at work.
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
stop changing my ringtone to people fucking, it looks bad at work
All he did was lie there and used his hands to keep pace. He was like the metronome of sex.
Totally using formspring as an incognito way of making sure that girl from last night wasn't jailbait.
Pre warning. Your not gonna sleep tonight cuz I'm staying with your roommate. Thanks for breaking up with me.
How do you feel about fucking me quick and then me leaving to go do arts and crafts?
Please stop letting me make out with hot lesbians.
Definitely not. I may be your best friend, but first and foremost I am a guy. Please continue.
Its perfect, I supply the pot she makes the brownies. I love the culinary dept.
Awk moment when I forgot to tell my hookup about visitor parking so he got towed
I just did a walk of shame on my own block. one of the old neighbors saw and greeted me "good morning, girl next door"
I love the smell of your bedroom. It smells of a mixture of cherries, leather, and unrequited homosexual desire.
Like either my tits got bigger or I've succumbed to Trumps tiny hand syndrome
Hey, um, after thinking about it, I decided I really don't want to use applying olive oil to your ass for your fissure as part of foreplay because... well... really? Just read that again.
In order to get rid of my bladder infections I must give up caffeine, nicotine and tight pants. It's like my pussy is an angry dictator or something
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