You know the guy who poops at a party and then leaves and you go in, do your business, and come out and there are girls outside that think you pooped and no one talks to you? I'm the guy who poops before you go in, because I'm in a relationship and I hate you.
I was just tapping my foot in the bathroom at Penn Station just PRAYING for anonymous sex. You know how that goes.
I think hes settled down now. He's just licking the walls and the windows.
I found her in the trunk, smoking a cigarette, saying every girl should know how to get out of their trunk
All I can remember is being told by a guy named Kyle to stay in the corner until the cops left. Then waking up on a porch outlined in beer cans 8 blocks from my house. Pregaming for college.
what kind of roommate is she really? she wouldn't even hold my hair back.
I was gonna tell her, but there were too many tongues in my mouth
Pants off. Spirits lifted.
I'm sorry, you're actually right. Ostrich racing happens, and they're ridden like a horse. Bewildered and distraught.
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
In the pie chart of my life, she is a huge part of why I drink.
Dude I'm at a bar, and there's this Elvis impersonator here that I went to rehab with. Apparently Elvis has left the wagon.
We got caught fucking on the couch while I was in my Godzilla onesie.
I just gave them my two week notice. Now is the perfect time to fuck my boss's son
Of course that's what I'm wearing. I need to find a beard to mount and ride STAT.
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