I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
yeah he was eating me out and i didnt know someone made popcorn so I thought the smell was comming from my vagina
wtf
Suuuuuuper drunk and just sang fuck her gently to the chiminea. I'm in bad shape.
The great thing about vietnam is that if I'm drunk during the day people just think I'm being white
I drove 5 hours to see her. She thanked me by getting shitfaced, inviting her boyfriend over, and making me sleep on the couch after I cooked for them and did the dishes. You're right. I'm a fucking doormat.
The worst part was I wasn't conscious enough to move out of the way, I knew i was being puked on but I couldn't move.
I figure that my generation of my family needs an alcoholic. I'll take that burden.
You told the cop FUCK YOU AND YOUR TASER, i dont think he appricaited that
Gotta admit I did think about bartering you out to the gay guys for $20 and the dudes flashy neck scarf
Odd start to the day - the FBI just showed up at my apartment.
Should I take a fireball shot or brush my teeth?
Is it weird that I only look up my ex on Twitter when I take a shit? May have conditioned myself to associate him with shit
I'm now forever going to blame miss frizzle for making me the sexual deviant that I am today
all I remember the next morning was crawling through the doggy door and finding my underwear in my purse
she was sitting on the toilet asking for me to take a "cute facebook profile picture" for her
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