Text. Mid BJ. 8 points.
He fucking owes me dinner after I gave him head under the deck behind the bar.
You tied the party balloons to your nipple ring so that everyone would know you partied.
All I remember was the chick screaming "don't hookup with him! His dick's the size of a cucumber"
He said i looked like a shooting star sprawled out on the floor while i puked and i kept blaming "senor cuervo" for doing me dirty.
how the fuck is Katelyn 5'1" and 85 lbs and she tackled a bouncer to the ground?
I'm not drunk enough to eat silly string
its the kind of pain that only someone with a fucking elephant on their head would understand. I'm never drinking again.
You have my approval. I will dance and throw skittles at your funeral.
When he pulled it out last night I asked if that was as hard as it was going to get. I think I may have offended him.
We smoked a blunt in a stall where a drag queen was fucking a bartender in the ass. So theres gonna be a second date :)
Only time and a comprehensive case study of all of your relationships will tell.
The highlight of my night will be digging in other people's garbage
"Fwd: Nice to meet you last night thanks for the tit flash" no recollec. i am officially banned from wearing tube tops to the bar.
ill give you some hints: blood, carnival, fog machine, happy meal.
Randomize
