I woke up this morning under my fitted sheet and my legs through the sleeves of my sweater.
one should ask oneself what kind of lifestyle one is leading when one finds a handprint of semen on their pillow the next day.
We're playing Edward Bottle-of-eight-dollar-sale-wine-hands now
i was picked up off the floor by a stripper, if thats not a new life low then i dont know what is.
She was that classic mixture between "Hell no" and "Why the fuck not."
I'm literally partying with O.J. Simpson's son right now. I don't know what to make of this.
I swear I could audibly hear her vagina slam shut when you walked up to hit on her.
Apparently, we were running around the apartment, singing into pickles, the routinely slapped our passed out friends with them.
he turned down sex AND sandwiches. who the hell does that?!
P.S. The slutty NASCAR driver costume will be saved and used year round for role play.
Send me another check for the tickets. I scratched out "anal wax" and now the bank won't take it.
The site I use to study flash cards keeps showing ads for truck companies hiring drivers. It's like the site is saying "hey, we all know there's no hope for you, just give up and Become a truck driver."
Tonight I celebrated marriage equality by letting a girl I don't know kiss me at the club.
I just wanna get drunk in a castle. Is that so much to ask?
Never going back to jail again. Only time in my life I've ever had a wet dream about jerking it...
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