When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.
I just found 3 condoms in my math textbook... in the probability section... Under dependent and independent events...
At what point in my life was I not hugged enough to be on my fourth walk of shame in half as many weeks?
I remember pointing out how smooth my legs were to try to direct his attention away from my vagina.
I need to figure out how to tell my doctor that I don't want to fix my possible fertility problems until AFTER I'm done whoring around in my 20s.
Also, hurry up because I don't like drinking alone. I'm still doing it, but I don't like it.
I'd like to thank you fucktards for dumping the WHOLE box of Tricuits in my bed after I passed out.
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
All I know is I was dancing to Shakira in his alley and I think rubbing my junk on his car door.
Its a first. Never been peed on in a line to concert. First time for everything.
She kept telling me it was a squirtgun.
"Stranger danger aquaman" were the last words i remember. help me.
i am laugh crying so hard the guy next door stopped playing guitar
I had to sit there with his three fat aunts talking about a bunch of 50 Shades knockoff books.
I felt like a taxi, but my meter was running up minutes he would be eating me out that night.
Theres a handprint of sauce on my fridge, one on my face, and a trail of it leading to my bedroom, and sauce all in my bed, and I have no idea what the fuck i ate.
Had a dream last night where I asked you how your Christmas was and your response was, “sex, man. Just lots and lots of sex.”
Good god. A spell so dry your friends actually commit it to their subconscious!
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