i found the vodka. it was hiding in the orange juice.
I kept waking up & seeing my Goodfellas poster and thinking it was a window with people crammed against it staring at me.
I guess the lighting in my room made it look like they were moving. I remember telling myself that they were watching over me and protecting me from the cops
I couldn't accept the bj. My penis has done nothing wrong and didn't deserve the punishment of her face.
the last thing i remember is ordering pitchers of white russians....
I'll just get wasted and start throwing myself at men. Someone's bound to take the bait
I just woke up to pictures of every angle of his dick I'll ever need to see.
i just unblacked out cuddled in a pita pit booth with ten dollars rubberbanded to my hand.
He managed to scream "cowabunga bitch" before he went down on me. Let me know if you still like him.
I could hear them screwing through my bedroom wall again this morning, so I started beat boxing to the tempo.
He was going down on me as I discovered a spaghetti-O on my boob. Its been a while since I faked it.
You then proceeded to tell me how good of a cook you were and put raw cookie dough in the champagne.
Turns out floaties are a great thing after a couple bottles of vodka
she said she doesn't remember seeing me at all last night. ...I was with her for six hours, there's no way she could have been blackout the whole time
What part of “the stripper has a gun, we need to leave” is confusing you? She’s drunk, she’s fucking crazy and NOW SHE’S PACKING HEAT!
We still on for Manwhore Monday?
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