I don't think he has that. His apartment was pretty much a tv and a bed. Topless girl calendar and a glass of water to put out cigarettes.
his text ended with ... everyone knows dot dot dot equals infer sexy time
i woke up to find out i shared my bed with a full, open can of natty light last night and didnt spill it. then i drank it for breakfast.
this is the fifth day in a row i've woken up after 3 pm, hungover. I might die when snowmageddon is finally over and we have to go back to class. my liver wont know how to take it.
i wish there was a photo editing effect that fully opened my drunk eyes
I just don't get it. Video games don't suck his dick.
He told me he doesn't dance and he hates drunken excitement. Why I ever thought it would work is beyond me.
No need to call an exterminator, the ants overdosed on the leftover lines on the counter.
Call me when you get up. This hang-over is like dismantling a bomb: I need someone to talk me through it.
I'd recommend you leave that level of crazy to the experts. I'd start with an under appreciated soccer mom if I were you.
So we broke my sobriety. Played life size childhood games. Broke into a cold hot tub and got laid. I think this is BFF quality!
On the plus side, I know I'm allergic to latex now. Like really fucking allergic
would you like to venture to the magical clitoris forest?
The hospital waiting room is starting to become a very familiar place to me.
Excuse me I just made a hot pocket without burning down the house, I think i can do anything.
Randomize
