Who would have guessed that ordering a vodka lemonade at Roscoe's was code for I want a hand job
We're 3 acts into this drag show and we've already run out of Lady Gaga songs.
There are rocks in my bed. And dirt all over my face. Explain?
No. I'm just saying it shows no signs of stopping. My dad was a man-whore well into his 50s.
You'd think the dry cleaners next door would be less judgmental for as much business as my theme parties bring them.
Obviously he considers you not fucking him as fucking up. Thus making him fuck up. Based on this I believe he should be disqualified from the race to your vagina.
He said I kept trying to give him directions back to my house in Rhode Island, and that I started crying when he told me I live in Phoenix.
I confess. I just downed the bottle of saki. And I'm singing phantom of the opera to the dogs. Be glad you're not here for the high notes.
I'm just gonna go have sex with whom ever is in the men's room.
The more I piece together last night the more I want to vomit it out of my brain.
I tried to settle their lesbian roommate fight by turning on Pretty Wild
I need to you to send me drugs via FedEx
Normally roommates threatening each other with knives would be too much crazy for me, but I don't have much going on right now and I feel like this could get interesting. So I think I'm gonna ride this shit out for a while.
I got my gum stuck on his balls.
I’ve got a sex swing and lube, he’s not going anywhere soon
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