I just used my 7th grade year book to figure out who I hooked up with last night. Being home is magical.
Whenever I said your name you screamed polo and did another shot.
we talked for like an hour, i feel like we really bonded. i mean i was simultaneously giving him head but you get the point.
Hes warming up week old McDonalds french fries, putting hot sauce on them, and counting them with his shirt off.
I had some like war flashbacks of giving someone a handjob and i was trying to figure out who it was.
She bit me. She gave me a brief pity cuddle. I gave her an awkward backrub, somehow I thought it would be a good idea to include the vagina in that. It wasn't.
Highlight of the night was you walking into the men's room yelling "My husband is diabetic" and crawling under the stall to yell at me.
my mom just said "if you had sex with someone you don't really like I'm going to be so mad at you" HOW DOES EVERYBODY KNOW
He gave me twenty cool ranch tacos and declared, drunk, " Look, I do good"
When our dicks touched he made a lightsaber noise.
Apparently I missed the "You may have to jack off a horse" part of the application.
Also, we found a geriatric Snoop Lion.
The fact that you screamed, "Alf is my spirit animal!" is proof enough that we're too old for peyote.
One day I'll learn not to get drunk on a plane. Today is not that day.
Just a typical Friday. Dinner, drinks, doing lines with a member of Congress
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