I'm drinking while my friends build sand castles, now I know how my dad used to feel
I closed that bar. Sang every Beatles song in the book. Made Somoan friends.
I couldn't walk, so he carried me all the way home; and then I told him that I wasn't drunk enough to fuck him. Poor kid.
Nothing good has ever or will ever come from 50 cent beers at the bowling alley..
Either he was jacking off or having a seizure next to me in bed. Either way, I was too lazy to help.
And when he pulled me off the bathroom floor, he just looked at the cat litter stuck to my chin and said "oh sweetie" and shook his head. I think my dad's officially given up hope.
Well I'm currently debating between getting toilet paper or getting my eyebrows waxed so... There's that
It mathmatically balances. Less pants + more shirt = fully clothed. see? Not a whore!
Oh, and apparently I was butt ass naked and walked into the room where anna was skyping her dude in afghanistan and said "This is happening."
We all have to be good at something. Mine are writing, drinking, fucking and peer pressure.
No foreplay. Missionary. Too quick. And he owns a fedora.
I almost fell asleep reading that.
I almost fell asleep fucking it.
I'm facebook/twitter stalking the guy I just slept with as he's passed out next to me. What a time to be alive...
Looks like I'm not in the Ashly Madison files. But my wife is.
He got punched in the face last night? By who? I’ll invite him to our formal. Seriously.
Sorry I banged your sister. But in my defense you ain't fucked me in a month. In fact I should get a medal for keeping it in your family.
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