So I just walked in on one of our neighbors having sex...on our couch.
WHAT?!
He apologized for staining our couch, then asked if he could make me a drink. Pretty sure he was still inside her while we were talking.
I'm pretty sure my roommate has taken plan B more times than i've had sex. Not sure how that makes me feel.
Your TV has the DVD menu for White Chicks permanently burned into the screen. I can't anymore. That's just a whole different level that I cannot comprehend.
Is it obsessive that I keep picking my crazy sex rug burn scab so it leaves a scar I can remember him by?
just got booed by the entire restaurant.
So can we talk about how we all three made out with the bike taxi driver in lieu of paying him. I'm not even mad, that's resourceful. You know what married girls would have had to do? They'd have had to pay.
she made sit in a corner, drink nothing but water and told me she was worried about me because i picked up an irish guy at a taxi rank. says the girl who invented tequila night and fucked a guy in a park across the street from a sweet sixteenth.
We drove around last night shotting fireworks out the window while they had sex in the back of his car
usual friday morning routine. the pants i wore last night are in my passenger seat and im rooting through the pockets trying to make exact change at the dunkin donuts drive thru
You pulled out a fucking recorder and started playing along with all the songs on your playlist and refused to hit the j
It's after midnight. I didn't find the answer to my problem, but I did find the bottom of a bottle of vodka, so... there's that.
I felt like... 50% confused and 50% like a slow roasted flip flop.
I'm really tired of this guy walking his chicken in my neighborhood.
i dunno, a lot of my childhood feels like a drugged up fever dream
Sexting my TA in lecture = awesome
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