He fucking owes me dinner after I gave him head under the deck behind the bar.
I know she is the girl of my dreams bc she orgasmed, rolled over and then asked if I knew that Orlando beat Cleveland.
Yeah but if I do that, I'd have to buy my own stomach pump for the house. That doesn't seem like a great thing to have sitting on the coffee table.
You know its going to be a good homecoming when you beer bong a mimosa at 6am.
At least a dozen asian tourists will be showing their friends pictures of me peeing off of Hoover Dam with a cop pointing his gun at me when they get home. I worry about the impact on their children.
I am drunk at a castle and it isn't even 3. Europe is amazing.
It feels like I've shaved away my winter coat and my vagina is going to freeze if I go outside.
Managed to discreetly puke out of a moving streetcar window, in front of no less than a dozen people. Nobody saw/said anything. I feel like a legit local now.
Oh, and that ugly chick transformed into a veritable goddess when she came back at 3AM with a handle of vodka and 100 chicken wings
1.) where are you? 2.) you making meatballs? 3.) Meatballs for sex?
Bible prof is the guy I made out with at the gay bar on the fourth. He doesn't remember.
She drunkenly dropped her ranch for her pizza. She tried to clean it up with her hands off the street then realized it didn't work and started licking her fingers.
We trekked into the state forest, laid the comforter down and he proceeded to tell me that we could stay here and stargaze, turned me around and fucked me like the lion king.
You should come over tomorrow. Wine, pizza and my vagina. Those are all great things.
Write this down so you can tell me in the morning. "That bartender needs to be in my mouth."
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