Um, that's called prostitution
Not if I leave it on the nightstand, then it's called cab money
I don't think I can get bothered with getting laid tonight
that's just what I need...drunk ass people throwin hatchets in the dark.
Nobody needs to come anywhere. Except on your face.
Turns out shot glasses hold the perfect serving of sour patch kids....I still fail to see how not having any real glasses is an issue
..But I'm still alive. And thats the main thing
I will now refer to my life as before and after I used Astroglide for the first time
I found my underwear on the sidewalk 8 blocks from her house while on my walk of shame. I also found our beer bag and a full beer in the bush.
Penises. Everywhere.
You're. Welcome.
6 beers, 3 orange crushes, & half a fire ball later & you get my alter ego.
I got to her place and she was petting her cat and pounding vodka out of the bottle. She looked like Dr evil in yoga pants. She's nuttier than squirrell shit.
Ah. Hot spring. Infinitely less skeevy than a hot tub. These North Carolinian dudes are all class.
He has a British accent. He could read me the phone book and I would come so hard he would need a wizened old man in a rowboat to save him.
I met a guy last night who bought me a book on Amazon at the bar and then we had sex. Boners for books is a thing. Boom.
Okay, let's just all take a step back and think about how funny this will seem in like a year... Maybe 2 if his nose is actually broken.
Randomize
