Woke up with feathers in my hair. at work. still drunk. sooo awkward.
I'm doing a half mile walk of shame carrying a trash bag and still very drunk. Save me. I feel like a refugee.
Tonight's Real World episode reinforced the well-known fact that men of any caliber can hook up with girls named "Crystal"
beyond obliterated. i recall legitimately trying to use a ballpoint pen as eyeliner.
who paints a picture of their own dick and sends it to people. i dont know if its borderline crazy or just fucking genius...
Step 1: drink. 2: drink more. 3: go for it. 4a: success. 4b: drink more. 5. drink. 6. go for other girls. 7. drink more. Sound good?
we got 12 live crabs and then we got really stoned and know we're playing with the crabs. thats nom watermellon nom. now i'm plaing with a crap whos such a gentleman
370HSSV 0773H read that upside down
what are you doing with your life
I'm in the "I'd rather have Carbs than Dick phase" part of my Life right now. YOU tell me how much Skinny Sex I'm having.
Absolutely. I could drink and smoke that memory away in a matter of years at my current rate.
I'm eating those little wheels of cheese and watching storage wars, this is the opposite of sex.
Well I mean enduring a 45 minute conversation about C-sections was worth the 9 jello shots those soccer moms gave me.
I just want to be like "i dont know you but ive seen your penis & i like it"
He lured me round with the prospect of sex and then made me proofread his CV and spoon. I fucking hate this guy.
It's only awkward the first ten minutes you realize it's not your house.
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