P.S. I can't hear my feet
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Balls are like the throw pillows of the penis
the jail released me with 39 mardi gras beads. I need details.
I don't think the people up for their 8am class were as impressed with how many beads i got last night as we were.
Dude you can't just initiate a threesome via twitter
No i dont need Magnum Condoms, that would be like putting MC Hammer pants on my dick
Rule number one to being a good adult: don't use your vagina as an icebreaker. Just some wisdom I thought I'd pass down from experience.
I had very briefly met him a few years ago. My friend was tired of hearing us both complain about being horny. She figured she would fuck two birds with one stone.
I fucked some frat guy. Then I found my brother after and made him take his shirt off and then I made him tell me he loves me
She had like a side ponytail and hoop earrings though. And legwarmers. Like a horrible 80s nightmare. Don't drink and dream, dude.
This place is a maelstrom of dicks.
I mean as in stuck up bastards, not actual, desirable male genitalia. My point is, come pick me up fast, please!
I got so drunk I thought my tennis court was a corn field so I laid in it and ate pizza
I think we have some hyper-understanding of each other when drunk, because looking back at our text convo from last night, they were literally just jumbled letters.
We're hate flirting, damnit.
Randomize
