i took my goldfish out of his bowl last night and put him in my bed
long story short: there's a file in the master file cabinet labeled "lube".
It's Christmas week. I wouldn't know what to do if i wasn't hung over.
I really want to title the album "I want to make sex with your face" but I also want a job someday. Temptations, temptations.
No, i went to get it done but the guy couldnt find it. exhibit A of why i wanted a clit piercing in the first place.
he made his penis look like a sprinkler when he was coming. it was pretty cool actually.
that's probably because you left your arm in the fishtank for 90% of the night
just reminessing about the wedding and were they seriously to tight to serve a meal oorrrrrr was it just another one of my black-out-by-dinner drunks
the fact that you actualy have a 'black-out-by-dinner drunk' is a bit deserving..
My mom just called me to tell me that i dont have chlamydia. Awkward.
All I want is a camelback full of Jameson and the weather to be cool enough for me to wear rainbow spandex. Ugh. Pride problems.
How the fuck you gonna play love don't cost a thing in a strip club?
I rammed pretzels and Jell-O shots down the throats of those I loved.
The hotel had a helipad. Of course we had sex on it.
After walking ten blocks barefoot in Boston I've concluded drunk me needs to make better decisions.
You’d probably be happy to know that I think I’ve mastered the skill of knowing “my type” and then steering clear
FINALLY. I THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME!
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