Locked eyes w/ her at mainstreet, and said 'yeah yeah get it!' From there we started violently making out on the dancefloor (I had a FULL boner, ps) and then I got her number
and that's why we call him explosion in my pants. no one remembers his real name.
My underwear smells like fireworks.
I sometimes forget that turkeys are alive even when its not Thanksgiving.
She's not depressed. She's just sober. It's like the same thing.
I asked you if you were ok and you said "dude I'm fine, I'm in the recovery position"
I want to spend time with you, and by time, I mean real time. Not your dick in my mouth time.
I don't remember. I think I elluded to the fact that I would buy him a dildo for his birthday.
please tell me why my pillow is wearing your thong...
...i wondered where i left that...
It was your ex but it was not eighties night, it was pudding wrestling. And either thank you or I'm sorry depending on the state of my pants left on the doorstep
I swear 95% of pictures on my phone are from drunken nights I don't remember with me doing a peace sign alone in somebody's bedroom.
We ended up at an Asian frat. I made out with two Mexicans at the same time and I pulled a muscle in my leg from twerking too low. Diversity.
My doctor wrote down abstinence as my form of birth control. #ihavenodatinglife
she definitely didn't appreciate it when you justified bringing her home by yelling to me "fat bitches need love too"
saying, "have a good fall!" After fucking a virgin boy is good etiquette, right?
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