So shortly after drunk sex...she starts crying and saying..." you don't care about me, you never do anything nice for me" so I called her a cab
there is cereal in my wallet where all the cash used to be.
my debit card account is gonna say movie, movie, ice cream, movie, cheese fries, get a fucking life, movie
They turned the water off again. Brushed my teeth with whats left from those pitchers of mojitos. So hung over i dont even care.
Oh, and no balcony sex...trust me.
you made sure you came back for your bottle of vodka but didn't remember to take your shoes
Emergency! LinkedIn connected me to a hotornot hookup from sophomore year... slutty phase sphere has officially invaded grown up professional sphere. My illusions of interweb sexual anonymity have been exploded.
I was to the point where my socks were drenched in ranch dressing
im tired of her bring homeless men home when shes drunk. THEY ARE NOT FUCKING PETS!!!!
I found us a new booze connection and I'm writing college admissions essays. The future is bright.
IF YOU HAVE THE CHANCE TO HIT THAT, AND YOU DON'T, I WILL FUCKING CRUCIFY YOU.
You're such a supportive sister.
Also he said my vagina was sculpted by gods so there must be some feelings here.
She looked like a cross between Jesus and John Lennon. So I fucked her. I feel majestic and powerful.
I got some blow and a hand job from one of the strippers. So I guess I'm getting over the divorce.
Every time I look at him 'Relax' by Frankie Goes to Hollywood plays in my head. Is that weird?
Randomize
