I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
My mom and I are having a "yay I don't have herpes" shopping trip day
not my fault hes the one that tried to cuddle after. said he wanted to spoon away the shame.
Well, love is in the air. And by that I mean: it seriously smells like sex in here.
Dude. Apparently I just smoked some stuff that's used for Nigerian spirit quests.
In a cab. Towels everywhere. Confused.
I gave him head in my cape. On the kitchen floor. Watching a show about bacon.
We had 15 min before last call. Exact quote "let's see how drunk we can get."
Mom chose Thanksgiving to tell me the reason I am here is because she was too tired to give my dad a BJ and too drunk to make him pull out.
She's crying about either her ex boyfriend, her one night stand, or her own puke. None of those is worth the tears.
You were drinking whiskey from a beer bottle i dont know what you really expected...
O was like, nah, fuck 50-50. My version of bi is that i'm 80% gay, 20% drug-addled decisions. Apparently he's straight on hallucinogens.
A girl in McDonalds just asked if I was in here wasted a few nights ago throwing fries at the staff, I said it was my twin
We both know that wasn't me
i found a picture from last night of you sat on the floor naked, covered in butter and crying. care to explain?
I was hoping you could tell me..
I climbed on the arm of the futon, flapping my hand fan frantically and hissing imprecations at the smoke detector
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