It's pouring out. I am cold, wet, and miserable.... Kind of reminds me of our sleepover last night.
Uhh me and Jacque peed on the street outside the bar last night and wiped with flowers. I vaguely remember her repeating the word "fresh" over and over.
that was a gay-test. you passed.
with flying rainbow colors i hope!
I have "you made mistakes last night" written alllll over me.
I think he finally resigned to the fact he could not get off. He just looked at me and said "I'm having testicle difficulties," rolled over and passed out.
I was just expressing concern for your pickle consumption.
The thumbs up barstamp on my hand is mocking my hangover with its positivity.
I lull them into a false sense of security with my gayness. Then when they're vulnerable, I strike, like a snake. A big non-gay snake, with huge balls.
25 likes of a picture on Instagram of my butthole. beat that.
I just want you to know that I am dancing around my apartment by myself singing Taylor Swift into a wine bottle. Do hurry.
"DO YOU LIKE FLYING KITES" WORKED AS A PICKUP LINE. SUCK IT.
We're ordering chinese food so if you want to get on this obesity train answer me now.
You licked my eyeball, you are officially cut off. If you just missed you can have a second chance on Friday.
My vibrator broke.
Dude it's been less than twelve hours. Did you sleep?
Don't worry about that. I need a new vibrator.
There is no way entering a gas station bathroom memorializing an alien abduction in rural New Hampshire is a good idea.
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