The sex was great until she started shouting, "Succeed!, Succeed!" Then it was like I was fucking a motivational speaker. Awkward.
frozen peaches as icecubes. vodka Sundays just got wayyyy better
And now we have yet another reason to never travel to Detroit
on a scale of 1-10how much freaking out is acceptable if you just found a (possibly used) cock ring in the head board that your parents gave you?
No, I think it was the night I threw up in her front yard. You're thinking of the time I threw up in her backyard.
We left an ass print on the piano.
Boobs speak an international language.
Just successfully invited my mom to a drag show. If that doesnt say "im gay" then idk what will.
I know you're gay. But if I'm not getting dick, then you have to. That's what friends do.
We should go, because after those margaritas time is running out on my sobriety clock.
Happy Birhtday!
Dad, it's 3am and it's not my birthday... wherever you are, go home
I feel like David Hasselhoff when he's drunk eating that cheeseburger and crying. But with cheesecake.
I'm disgusted with myself. I feel like I need 10 boxes of Summer's Eve and a baptism.
Finding my pants in the morning should not make me this proud
Reminder to self: never have sex on a trampoline. Trampoline burn hurts worse than carpet burn.
Randomize
