I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
it was surprisingly calming to be rocked to sleep by his roommate humping on the bottom bunk
I'm at Home Depot to get supplies to fix the wall we cracked by fucking too hard against the bookshelf.
Also, my drunkenly packed sleepover kit consisted of a singular sock, my uncharged laptop, and a pack of post-it notes.
You lured him into the bathroom with a trail of jello shots, then proceeded to barricade the door with duct tape. You really should have thought that one through..
I drank it. I drank the beer from '78. I drank my bday beer, I drank my soul
I know, my friend Erin took me into the bathroom at work and poured pickle juice on me.
the last time I drank tequila I ended up riding your skateboard nude down the street... so yeah, I'll have a few shots.
I swear going to your house is like going to a strip club, no matter what happens I get glitter on me.
Do not ever get that redhead chem major high. Gave her a magic brownie and she sat in a corner and literally cried about organic chem. Never again.
He told me to tell my ass that he loved and missed it, and even though he hasn't known it long, it might be the one for him
How is it??
I'm drinking Gatorade out of a champagne flute.
I woke up next to him with nothing on and my thong around his neck. I just put my clothes on and left, but he still has my thong.
And by "have lunch together" you mean me giving you a blow job in the back of your Tahoe, right?
Don't worry. I have logic.... just not morals.
Randomize
