There is still throw up in my sink from before break. God I missed this place
Your like the Mozart of blow jobs, you make every other girl seem like cheesy elevator music.
No, no, no. Fuck you. I took a glass blowing class solely to learn how to make that bong. You shattered it and my dreams in a matter of five seconds.
in case you blackout.. this is confirmation that yes, you were sitting spread eagle on the kitchen floor chugging pickle juice out of the jar.
I hope there's a soldier with a Bedazzler just going to town right now.
I remember nothing of last night, but I did manage to figure out which frats I went to by the trails of straw across campus.
Either I'm too drunk or she gave me a hand job to the rhythm of jingle bells.
You are my mentor.
I drank wine out of a protein shake bottle last night. You may want to rethink that statement.
He's sweet and rough. A wonderful contradiction. He's the starburst of sex.
Almost to my house to grab beer. And pants.
I traded him cumming in my face for a year for a Disney annual pass. One giant leap back for feminism, one small step for the adult child Disney fan.
Don't let me publish my memoir unless "hurt my ankle drunk irish dancing" is at least the title of a chapter because that is really the whole story of my life.
lets start a news segment called WHY IS LEOS CROTCH BURNING TODAY
Because that's what you do with poop. You expect the worst.
Fun fact: deep throating plus dehydration plus eating a lot of citrus = my throat is fucked. Metaphorically and physically.
Randomize
