To answer your question of whether I "went back," tits just informed me I was kicked out for falling off my barstool and passing out on the floor...
The sky will open, cue choir of angels: "oh! wow! Matt was right! Not only will I grow out my bush, but I'm going to date straight, available men!"
I had to move some guys boxers out of the dryer. This is the closest I'll be getting to dick this month.
Accidentally spilled a drink on her roommates skirt, offered to clean it, and got a blowjob out of the deal. Something went horribly right.
That's why she's the girl with her life together and you're the girl with the penis drawn on your car.
Meet me at the corner of "what the fuck" and"how'd you get in my bed" in 10 minutes.
The last thing I remember before blacking out was telling Jamie that she was too fat even for my standards. The first thing I remember after blacking out was waking up next to her.
Dave used his AAA card to get my car towed to my house so I could get drunk. Evil genius.
Your vagina doesn't want to be violated with garnishes. I get it.
Like I owe him sex. Hell fucking no. I owe myself sex. With a celebrity. Or a clean pornstar. Who knows.
Give me an out of order sign and caution tape and we can have sex practically anywhere.
Long story short if you're going to get drunk on a sailboat at night leave your phone in the car.
Cant get off the floor. Need more beer. Send help.
No? The only contact I've had with him for months was when I drunk texted him from Costa Rica to say that all jazz sounds the same
I just saw a guy in a zippo shirt buy 2 gallons of fire starter fluid and then proceed to smoke a cigarette. I feel like hes got some big plans for his tuesday.
Randomize
