I just went through her cupboards. Eye patch and sword. nowhere near each other. different shelfs.
Fuck?...well quicky, i have to study...unless you can read my book while i bang you, then it can last four chapters
I can be that talented
you were so drunk you slurred your pauses
you wouldnt answer to anything but devil's advocate all night.
You just got cockblocked by Conan O'Brien.
So apparently after he gets hammered, falls down a set of stairs and gets a concussion, he can still come home and find a way to play his guitar solo bullshit as loud as possible while i seduce my date...
Lost my credit card. M has a bottle of blood in her pocket from a hobo.
She called all of my friends to find out where I was last night. 7 out of ten said their place.
This was my thought process as I drunkenly ran home: Whoa! I'm going so FAST! Why don't I run EVERYWHERE! ALL THE TIME! Then I peed in a bush and passed out on the ground.
So basically you were a dog.
I drink more single than I do in relationships. Except with assface.
It was like getting a handjob from a frost giant
Eric was just sitting there open-mouthed swallowing sake from that squirt bottle for so long the lady across from us leaned over to her kid and told him not to end up like "the big alcoholic one"
we were both freshly single and using each other as rebounds. most intense sex I've ever had. i felt like a grizzly bear emerging from hibernation in a whirlwind of sexual fury
side note: on a scale of 1-10, how bad an idea is it to hook up with 9 cats guy?
He's got a beautiful penis, I can't lie
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