I'm at some bar in brklyn... just made out with a guy named Owen.
He is a pre-school teacher... just sang me a song about weather.
Twist it, pull it, flick it... Bop it was like the first time I touched myself.
I just followed a trail of feathers and glitter to class. Today better be fucking magical.
Just found a "how to get laid" book on the dresser and am now a victim of method number 16 corollary 7.
Have introduced beer-pong to my work's Tuesday lunches.
he went to have surgery in the morning and apparently they found lip gloss on his dick
After three games of beer pong ending in victory by death cup, all four of us bonded in the fact that we all slept with the girl's boyfriend at some point in time in the past year. She had no idea.
She told me my dick looked like a baby seal wrapped in a sleeping bag.
Overall win. We all know who got to sleep on the concrete outside of Denny's with you.
I woke up in a poorly constructed blanket fort on a strange office floor covered in rug burns and champagne. How was your night?
My backyard is filled with beer cans. You idiots turned our backyard into a redneck ball-pit
Where were you last night, and why am I not surprised that drag queens were involved?
I need you to ship me a penis cookie care package.
I can't believe he's mad at you for not remembering your fake anniversary.
Ya i'm marrying the man who can hear/smell this level of flatulence and stick around
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