another moral hangover. fuck.
both roomates are passed out on the floor. I feel like I'm missing out on crucial bonding time by sleeping in my bed.
in the middle of giving him head in the backseat of my car he taps me on the shoulder, opens the door, throws up three times and then proceeds to tell me how amazing i am.
WHY. COME BACK. TRAPPED WITH ROOMMATE AND FALCON. SAVE ME. I HAVE HUMMUS.
It's okay, I found my phone in the toaster oven. Logical explanation: 5 martinis
WRONG DAY TO COME TO CLASS STONED!! WRONG DAY TO COME TO CLASS STONED!! WE'RE WATCHING BIRTHING VIDEOS!!!!
Moment of the day: as we leave the restaurant, she reaches into my pocket, pulls out her panties, and angrily marches to her car. I felt like a sketchy magician.
The best part is every argument that she makes from here on out will be refuted by "Oh hey remember that time you shit yourself wearing someone else's sweatpants at a frat party?"
you know it's a good party when the fucking floor caves in. THE FUCKING FLOOR.
I won't let penises inside me if you won't let tequila inside you, deal?
Vasectomy results are in. No swimmers in the water. REPEAT. No swimmers in the water. Come help me harness my new found super-power
The important thing is that she is gone, presumably back to the depths of hell from whence she came.
Idk you're asking me for advice on dating bro, after I told you I got a convicts number today.
He's got the good dick trifecta - flip phone, works outside, bed with no headboard.
But I don't see you as the jesus riding a dinosaur with a machine gun type of guy
Randomize
