my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
Change your flight to Denver. That's where my penis is.
Accidentally spilled a drink on her roommates skirt, offered to clean it, and got a blowjob out of the deal. Something went horribly right.
I found him in the livingroom trying to soak up broken glass with the clock from the kitchen.
She asked me to go inside, make myself a drink and slip into something a little more naked.
Can I tell him I got herpes from your bong instead of from that guy who claimed to be an olympic diver?
I'm a male taking pregnancy tests with every girl at the party. i have no regrets
I fingered myself to realization that I don't need birth control if there is never a guy.
He left his boxers here. Can I keep them and make a shrine or would that be creepy?
I know, but the fabulousness of my baggies should not be what defines my business as a drug dealer.
I gave him head during Pitch Perfect 2, I felt like the Bella's were cheering me on with their back up tunes
Yes. I masterbate to Harry Potter. It's what our generation does.
he fucked me while wearing his "Reagan Bush '84" tank and my inner democrat has never been more disappointed
There is an episode of "how it's made" on tv right now. The subject is tequila and water beds. Basically my life.
I'm too hungover to Google him and try to save face.
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