i'm stoned. there's a jazz trio playing outside across the street...scared that mike myers will appear & start yelling 'woman...WHOA MAN. WHOOOA MAN.' i'm snapping my fingers.
this guy literally just gave me a gold star sticker for the "stellar" blow job i gave him. ashamed? i think not.
Hemmingway ran to paris to avoid going to the university of illinois and becoming a doctor. It was there he developed a drinking problem. I need a plane ticket.
when i got there he was on top of an air mattress in the middle of the pool with a bag of doritos and a 40 telling people he needed his space.
Turned out not to be so bad. He had a big dick and i owed him for all the free beer over the year.
Convinced lucas all the eggs in the fridge are fertilized and now he's crying.
P.S. I just made up pleasure scepter for the purpose of that last message.
What!? It's 7:30am on gameday. This keg is not going to drink itself.
You know, I think I'm going to rock the shit out of this whole mid-twenties thing. Fuck babies and weddings -- I have vodka and young cock.
WHO THE FUCK PEED IN MY BONG
I smoked my last bong as the sun rose. It was magical.
That's a gentle way of saying I passed out like an 18-year-old on his first trip to Tijuana
Apparently I've texted the word shitfucked so much it auto-completes it now.
He showed up to my apt at 6am wearing a suit and holding a bag of coke....how could I not let him in?
You set a couch on fire in my brothers backyard?
Just the cushions
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