I just found a frying pan...in my bed.
Best friends brother. Beat that.
The last thing i remember is saying breakfast beer and carrying the keg to my room and locking the door.
First drunken handjob: not successful. Second handjob, mostly sober: much better. Nightly news brought to you by me.
I'm drinking red wine & feeding anchovies to the dog. I'm really not picky about what kinda of company I'm in.
Hospital. He tried giving some kid a stone cold stunner during a real fight.
This spray tan I used isn't working out. I spent an hour exfoliating and rubbing the damn stuff in with rubber gloves. I wanted the alluring, sun-kissed, sexy look. I've achieved smelling like burnt popcorn and the cats won't stop licking me. I'm a salt lick for cats.
Annnnd I didn't even notice there is a guy dancing in a jock strap beside me. That explains girls smiling at me
my pupils became my eyes and i slept with a cloth in my mouth again
I managed to get through my meeting without throwing up in someone else's office, so there's that for an accomplishment today.
He offered to let her do a line of coke off his hard-on. She said she'd had that hard-on and it would be a bump, not a line. Everyone laughed. That's why he left.
So that answers the first question but not the second: how the fuck am I getting home?
maybe facebook could make a notification like "someone tagged a photo of that guy you used to bang and still think is really hot with his shirt off"
Like I cant decide if he's like autistic or something or just seriously cock blocks himself on purpose with this shit
Don't worry dude, I've created a sex logic bomb to stop that sort of thing.
Like he's moved to LinkedIn creeping on me since he's blocked everywhere else & I'm just so confused does he think I'm going to post daily updates of my life on FUCKING LINKEDIN
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