this morning i woke up under the kitchen table. i went to my room and there was an inflatable whale in my bed with a banana duct taped to where its penis should be. there were trails of cheez-its around my apartment and i found $67 in the crotch of my underwear. im guessing i had a very happy birthday.
At what point last night did I start ordering doubles?
Right after we had the just friends talk..
Ask politely.
Fine. Can i please come over, hang out with you, sit around a campfire, smoke tree, listen to sublime, and fuck the shit out of you?
Thats good enough.
my 3 favorite things in life are tequila, dicks, and making sandwiches. that DOES NOT make me a bad person.
I think I pulled my groin stumbling back from the bar. That or the hippo I woke up next to.
I smell like fire and strippers. Successful sunday funday.
She is banging on the liquor store door begging them to let her come in.
On another note, convinced a 9 year old my hickey was actually a zombie bite.
Someone just told me I could double date with them and their dog as my date. This is why the suicide rates are so high at the holidays.
I should start handing out wavers before I have sex with someone. 1. Do you have anything to do tomorrow? 2. Are you ok with sleeping 12 hours from exhaustion. 3. Are you ok with a limp?
I feel that my cleavage set an unattainably high bar for 2013.
Then he shook the next streetlight but this one broke and fell over. He told me, "This is the part where we run."
So you broke your ribs while fucking? Dude you just got about 25% hotter.
FYI bail money is still in my drawer. I know you have no car but you need to know this for tomorrow.
If he ever pulls my hair again, I'm going to conveniently have lock jaw. Then he can decide whether pain during sex is still fucking appealing.
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