He said he was from Mississippi and my vagina clamped shut like a frightened oyster
I think my hot accountant is wearing banana republic. I miss the days when that ='ed gay. Signals are so confusing now.
Coming home soaking wet at three am and trying to convince the front desk man that we came from the library might have worked if I wasn't also roaring at everything.
Thinking about fake proposing to my gf just so the middle aged women next to us will buy us drinks
she added emergen-c to the bong-water bro, brilliant.
The swelling on my elbow and tongue means I may have cockblocked myself.
What ever happened to the whole 'innocent until proven guilty' thing. Like 'not pregnant until proven pregnant'. That's how it should be...
I think my hand is broken. But his nose definitely is
Everyone is drunk but me. Fantastic. Everyone is hooking up but me. Awkward.
I had a pitcher of margaritas. Now I'm in a laundry room being a 5th wheel and crying. I made myself a bed out of a pool floatie. I win.
Once he blows his load, he's more of an immediate flight risk than that jetBlue pilot. He's out the door before his cum is out of my vajayjay.
He's living a porn movie. He's slept with a waitress at her work for lunch, a bar tender at the bar that night, and the cleaning lady the next morning.
As if finding out the man you just had sex with is married isn't bad enough, it gets so much more awkward when his wife comes in to comfort you...
I'll text you later. I think she thinks we're taking this whole "no sex" thing seriously.
It was marvelous. I was drunkenly conversing with my professor in some of the best Spanish I've ever spoken.
Nobody will take a lit match to your nipple without warning you this time. Pinky swear.
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