If Billy Mays did an infomercial on your dick, it still wouldn't get you laid.
Definitely locked eyes with the stripper who gave me a lapdance last night as she walked by me and into the Ann Taylor Loft in Times Square.
Why are all the lights on in my house? Every single one. Someone should turn them off but I'm the only one here and I'm sure as hell not doin it.
I woke up to 30 angry texts and her Chihuahua in my room. Can you drop him off for me?
the bouncer kept askin you for id just to see how long it would take you to find your pants
Dude that musta been some handjob last night. The sound of her pandora bracelet kept waking me up
plan d- we get drunk, go see that Justin Bieber movie and freak out 13 year old girls.
So there I was praying he didn't go limp again, choking on a long, long gray ball hair. This is my Saturday night. This. Is. My. Life.
Think of where it's been though. That Dr. Suess book, "Oh the Places You'll go" was written for his penis.
My grandmother cheats at beer pong and has been rubbing her tainted victory in my face for an hour now.
Concert was great. Tackled the lead singer. Met him afterwards. He was cool about it.
I really just want to eat 20 mcnuggets and slap everyone with the box when I'm done.
You texted me the words "butt stuff" 53 times in a four hour period last night.
I mean I've only met the girl once and she was trying to slit some guys tires.
had more orgasms than hours of sleep last night
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