I think we should urban dictionary "drive of shame." It involves a sprint to your car in his underwear and shirt, surreptitiously trying to put on your bra on at stoplights without attracting attention from neighboring cars, and lurking in your car a block from home so you can know when your roommate leaves for work.
Yes, I am watching The Hills Have Thighs. And yes it is a porno remake of The Hills Have Eyes. And, again, yes, lesbian sex in the desert. Get the sand out.
So, we're going at it on the sink when a German kid walks in and starts brushing his teeth. I love hostel sex.
There's a transgender game of twister in the basement...God doesnt want me to type this paper.
I already apologized. And I got cum in my eye in return, I say your night beats mine...
It's not my fault. Someone keeps buying me tequila shots. Idk who. But every time I look down there's another. I think there's a conspiracy.
There's a big bag of salt and vinegar chips and a Budweiser for when you wake up. Don't say I never did anything for you.
I'm unsure as to how you were able to snapchat me with your hands duck taped to beer, but I appreciated it nonetheless.
Let me be the vehicle for you to live out your slutty half-gay dreams.
I gave him a BJ and he left. Coincidentally that's the name of my memoir.
You told the bartender at least five times that you were naming your son "Jagermeister" but you would use the bartender's name "Fernando" as his middle name. You were drunk.
I'm sorry that running around town like a frenetic wombat trying to find you KY jelly isn't good enough for you.
We should leave before they realize I dumped a bowl of Fritos in your bag just in case I got hungry
and then she sorta stared at me like "holy shit" and I looked down and my dog was licking her ass
Ruff night.
I've struck affair-gold. He's hot, he's ripped, he doesn't want a relationship, and most importantly he won't have to ask Gods permission to bang me like the last religious nut job did.
Randomize
