There are the 2 BIGGEST tools by me-- at our table. I hate them. But they're not ugly and I may make out with them later. And hate myself. Definitely hate myself.
I could hear his roommate in the background imitating my sex sounds...
He's spent his last 3 years working at Urban Outfitters. No, I'm not sad I missed out on a life of mustaches, the dollar menu and shitty scarves.
In less than 3 minutes we had 3 security guards running after us
I think I just got a contact from my own exhale. Def dying.
I think my sister is getting tired of me breaking into her house so I can sleep with random girls when shes not there
He's only going to be gone for two weeks
That's two months in gay whore years.
I wanted to be mature but the vodka was resilient.
BoomCity!!!
You don't have to text me that every time you have sex. I already heard you ring the gong.
Drank for free all night and I'm not even sleeping w the bartender. What is this magic?
He was on my bed looking at me like a sacrifice to the gods of gay sex and he's definitely a bottom. Like Jesus Christ a really, really great ass of a bottom.
I feel like shit, and I can't get the band aids off my nipples.
She's relieving herself in the laundry room. I'm really hoping there's a toilet in there...
I'm in my onesie attempting to spoon-feed myself cold soup. I'm playing freeze tag with my hangover. My hangover's winning.
Chaz got drunk and passed out so we superglued a kazoo to his mouth. Listening to him Panic when he woke up was fucking hilarious.
Randomize
