so i have my big date this weekend, and i was practicing giving head with a bottle in the shower. i stopped and looked at the botton of the bottle. it was PURE MOLD! if i die, dont tell the doctors how this happened....
We walked because you started screaming when you finally realized he wasn't Ben Bailey and it wasn't the Cash Cab.
Nada. Shooting off confetti and wanted to see I'd u could see it from ur house.
Wow. Its not even 11am.
These margaritas aren't just going to regret themselves.
We've been here for ten minutes. She told me I wasn't "Irish enough", licked my tits, and then sprinkled green glitter on them.
The whole time we were fucking I kept thinking, "My dad would love this cologne. I'll have to ask him where he got it." the highlight of the night is that I figured out my dad's birthday gift.
I woke up naked except for someone else's socks. Im so proud
Gas station champagne. And before you say anything I'll have you know it's imported. From California. So get fucked.
I owe a guy a shoe because I threw it over a fence. That is all.
Why do I even exist?
You were naked with a chalice of Skittles vodka, singing along to Les Miserables.
I think Saturday night will always be a mystery to me, except for buying an excessive amount of birthday shots for everyone and yelling BIRTHDAY SHOTS before every shot.
If you ever insult pizza rolls again, I will dragon kick you in the throat
I went out to dinner with the girls thinking I'd be home early. Instead I ended up in the Englishman's hotel room. Long Live The Queen.
I could be the Kenny Powers of Sex Therapists.
Did you poop on the roof?
WTH?
Is that a no?
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