What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
at first I thought it was funny, but looking at it now, it screams "dramatic" and "medicated wipes."
apparently i found nail polish and started playing a game i made up called "paint a nail, do a shot"
He;s fine. He just kept saying "hurricane Gordon is coming to shore" and flexed his muscles a lot.
stuck in traffic next to occupy boston. smells like patchouli and unshaven pubes
I think it may of been me pulling down my pants is why she walked away.
The second I see you we're shot gunning beers
It's gonna be 8 o'clock in the morning
And your point is?
Marry me
BTW he text me to text him later after the concert to hang out. Im prepping my bed but I should know I shouldn't count my dicks before they hatch
You left me alone with nothing but donuts and my thoughts.
He took a girl home at like eight, fucked her, kicked her out, came back to the bar, and repeated the process again at 10:30 and 2:30. THREE GIRLS IN ONE NIGHT. ALL PICKUPS. I HATE HIM.
I let him stay at my place since i had to work early and when i got home there was a fruit snack wrapper in my bed. I dont have any fruit snacks. Which means he brought his own fruit snacks to the fuck session.
I wanna borrow his axe at this point and cut my head open just to relieve some pressure
The creeper at the bar just realized we have the same birthday and bought me four beers already. He walked off so I took his change and dashed, i'm bringing the case over now.
the gnome is staring at me and the pineapple is wearing shorts. I don't want to do this anymore.
Intelligence report: the hot sister called you gross, the sweet sister says you're dumb, and the smart sister says all the other men she knows would have to die for her to hook up with you.
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