If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
I honestly don't know what my boundaries are, but shitting on me is crossing them.
That's what you said about that spiderman stripper, but look how that turned out
at this point every shot is just a haymaker to my liver
Really? How much of his life do you think he remembers? I'm pretty sure 75% of it qualifies as "kind of a blur".
I have a video (on my shattered iphone) of a random DJ at some bar giving me a birthday shoutout and texts from random numbers talking about birthday sex. My birthday is in April... Happy birthday to me?
How exactly do I approach the whole "Well that was fun. Am I purchasing the Plan B or you?" topic?
Yeah... I still gave her a hug because I felt really bad though. I mentioned that my boyfriends grandma just died too, just to reinforce that I'm straight afterwards.
Are we talking about who knows if I'll get naked pictures of you with a broadsword or who knows if I'll be surprised?
I found him passed out against a dryer in the girls washroom, in front of an old woman was trying to figure out how to dry her hands.
I'm pretty sure my liver died in Reno and my intestines are doing hula hoops around my asshole. The bachelor party was that good.
Sexting across continents is really a perfect example of how far technology has come.
I think my brain has decided it's boycotting life until it can do whatever it wants.
We were sad, then we got horny, and then we needed some ranch
I will give him this, every time we go to the club he gets a stripper's actual number.
Randomize
