You need to stop texting me at SEVEN in the morning. It wakes my one night stands up and makes for the awkward talk way too early.
Did I get blown in the bathroom? Yes. Did she throw up cranberry juice on my shorts? Yes. Did she finish the job? Yes.
Farmville is her only friend.
Pregaming class all semester has made this final review session more like my introduction to the topic.
rethinking that breast reduction surgery... i'm tired of drunkenly explaining the scars to guys who don't really give a shit
It's a bathroom floor kind of morning.
If drawing me a picture of his dick in draw something is flirting then he is doing it wrong.
Today's weekday brunch started at 2pm, and consisted of $7 of sandwich and $50 of cocktails. Also, I hustled the bartender for about $3 playing nickel poker, but he may have been letting me win. Either way, he didn't get into my pants.
If by "Are you drunk?" you mean "Did you just faceplant in the checkout line at Target?" the answer is yes.
As a 47 yo who just boned a 22 yo, it was definitely a walk of pride. She is a major feather in my aging cap.
When you pick me up at the airport, please have some sort of drugs on hand.
Stop studying come to the bar get drunk and help me figure out how to get home pretend there are commas in there someplace
It's 10:15 on a Wednesday night and my dick is covered in pop rocks. How's your Wednesday going?
She took me to ER. She says thought it was a squirtgun filled with vodka and she was 'marking me for later.' Thank god it's a flesh wound, and we're cool and going to date.
gtg, the cops are here
I love how when he said ecstasy pills both of our heads whipped around like a couple of horned owls.
Randomize
