I swear, if I find out you're lying, I'm going to put your name on one of those herpes watch websites and put the link up on every social networking site in existence.
So he asked me last night if I would cheer him on while he masturbated...
Now he's talking about how he's writing in a journal because he doesn't remember "his thought patterns when he was in elementary and that's distressing". I'm walking home. Fuck this.
It wasn't a wasted relationship. I got road-head in an Escalade. I still keep that with me.
He cooked me dinner. I showed my appreciation by showing up shithoused and breaking a bottle of steak sauce on his floor.
She said just put your tongue in there and don't linger. I have other things to do.
i don't think they understood the house was collapsing. they kept dancing and jumping and asking for more cups.
My body is like , remember when you wouldn't let me puke last night? Good luck at work fucker.
The universe is cradling this hangover like a gay couple cradles their newly adopted chinese baby.
trying to figure out what happened last night by looking around the apartment.
naked man under the piano. THE PLOT THICKENS.
to have them in my mouth would be like meeting a unicorn while floating on a cloud of glitter
I think you just described to us the most perfect drunken fairy tale that has somehow never been written
I fell asleep while eating jimmy johns last night and then woke up at 5am and continued to eat it
like when you break up with someone your virginity slowly starts to grow back & when it's done it's like ding ding ding you're ready to date again
just drove past - why are you walking towards the shop in your pyjamas?
Can't talk, on a quest for bacon.
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