I woke up in a strange girl's bed and rifled through her mail to get her name.
I can't belive they dont sell booze Sunday mornings. I mean some of us have to work
I have a running excel spreadsheet detailing the number of shots in a night and subsequent ability to masturbate
every single kid we've ever known, every single person we've gotten blow jobs from, every single person we've hit home runs with... is at dennys right now
I wish I could put booze in boobs and store it for later. I wouldn't need a flask. For $7000, they should do amazing things like that.
My vagina is depressed thinking about her future.
I woke up this morning covered in blood and peanut butter. I am now safe from vampires with nut allergies.
Pretty sure I recall hugging our waiter from the bar last night. That also means we are NEVER going there again
This is Jewish guilt versus Irish Catholic guilt. We should tread carefully, or we could fuck up the space-time continuum or something.
I'm okay with that.
Like I feel like I use my high IQ for the wrong things
doing the walk of shame back to your house in nothing but a bed sheet was definitely not one of my proudest moments..
oh man that would be weird.. i feel like we should do dirty things before anything super intimate like a massage.
Sometimes I look at dogs and just thing about how it's weird we both came from wolves
Lay off the drugs kid
I only have sex with you to have a memory to masturbate to.
i just read a article called "Booze, Drugs, and Bipolar Disorder"... i think someone is writing the memoirs of my life
Randomize