party is dying down. we just wrote whore in the yard with gas. Photos to come.
last night i told the bartender i only have 3 days left to live so i wouldnt have to pay for drinks
this morning i woke up with a nothing but a pair of what i believe are fairy wings on - and the bartender in my bed
he thinks ill be dead by monday and still came home w me.. WTF?
messed up. what color are the wings?
i feel like a thai whore the morning after the navy left.
she burped and cried multiple times. it was like i was getting head from a baby.
It's sad that I have started checking out the ring finger before the rack...I'm getting old
i dont want to stoop that low. but my dick does.
you kept saying "no santa, im not having sex with you. it's not your holiday".
you spent the rest of the night making a recipe for mixed drink called "the new years bowel remover". it has 13 parts but judging from the bold all caps, the boiled avocado is the most important
I don't not like him. It's just wierd talking to him because we both know I fucked his wife.
He stumbled out of the bar bathroom at 3:30 am with his jeans unzipped and his dick hanging out - it was the physical manifestation of "blackout with your cock out"
i decided if i had to, i could survive with only 3 fingers on each hand.
with a cock that big I don't even care that he makes a convincing drag queen
I know it's like I wanna bring somebody fun who I haven't drunkenly expressed my feelings for. Or hooked up with. It's a struggle.
There's no way you didn't at least start out with a dick. I obviously know there isn't one now, but there is no way that you were born a girl
I'm licking blood from my knuckles and I still haven't found my car keys..are you in town tonight?
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