She kept calling me her DD, which I assumed meant designated driver, so I was confused because I don't even have a car. Found out later it means designated dick. It's what her and her friends use as code for the guy they want to hook up with at the end of the night. I feel so used.
I went to check the drunk texts i sent last night but my phone deleted them already. Even my phone is ashamed.
I truly don't know anything about sober relationships. Normally I would just drunkenly yell "sex?" in a guy's face. What do I do now? Be like, sooo uhhh, wanna do it? Awkward, and even worse, I will remember clearly just how awkward it was.
My drunk body wants to fuck you so bad, but my high mind is telling me it's too much work. I think I'm just gonna stay home and eat some Mac and cheese. Sorry.
found her sleeping in the closet. woke her up and she said she was camping.
then he tried to convert me to islam
I think I won over his best friend. He was staring at my boobs all night.
me blowing you awake is the exact turn i want our relationship to take
apparently domino's not only has a live feed of pizzas coming out of the oven, but it also has a built in smooth jazz radio station. this pizza's getting really pornographic really fast.
I just paid for weed by taking him to the store to buy cheese so he could make empanadas. Best. Drug deal. Ever.
You sent 2 glasses of water to the table next us and told to the waitress they were on you. I repeat: water
Blacked-in to me, shirtless, giving myself finger guns in the mirror and rapping "stacks in the club stacks stacks in the club."
I say I'm working from home on conference call days, but really I just mute the phone, put that shit on speaker so I can hear what's going on, and let Marcus fuck my brains out.
Blame the bisexuality and move on?
Do you really want to know anything about the inner machinations of a furry's mind
Randomize
