They only remember me when they're drunk...I'm like a suppressed memory.
Talk about the highs and lows of a night out: had a threesome, then got robbed at knifepoint.
They only knew me as the lesbian that passed out in a bathtub. That's not what you call friendship.
He kept dropping hints about giving me crabs. Like he called my pubes a nest and said he "hoped there weren't any eggs in there."
And after getting thrown out of the frat house, getting carried up the hill for a half an hour, puking 5 times, and almost getting stopped by campus security, she still insisted he sleep with her. Gotta give her credit, even blacked she kept her eyes on the prize
FUCK BUDDYS DON'T HOLD HANDS. NO EXCEPTIONS.
ps I'm eating candy off our sex sheets. gotta say the only thing better than sweet tarts is sweet tarts with a hint of sex. perfect post vday situation
Last thing I remember was wondering why there was a mirror on the wall behind the urinal and then realizing I was pissing in the sink.
Well it's a moot point because I did have a sink & I peed in it.
So Monday we're lesbians.
Deal. This decision is final and any rebates on this will result in losing an eyeball.
Apparently I'm the last girl he had sex with. That was over a month ago. If he can go that long without sex then he's clearly not the guy for me
Apparently at 2 AM I decided to let the world know about my newfound love for elephants
Lets just say my thoughts when getting dressed this morning was "vagina friendly" options
I'm beginning to think shitting his pants is just a normal thing for him.
In honor of the new administration, I'm going to make it my goal this weekend to get some lesbian action. Fuck Donald Trump and fuck Mike Pence. I'm going to be a spiteful gay.
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