party is dying down. we just wrote whore in the yard with gas. Photos to come.
everything is bigger in texas. Including my drinking problem.
Manager just farted into the intercom. Whole place heard it. A number of people stopped everything and looked at him. Best. Night. Ever.
Or I die of a heart attack, which is the more likely/less fun scenario.
It is official. It's the year of doin married chicks. Similar to the year of virgins but without all the baggage.
He has a landing strip. I repeat he has shaven himself a landing strip. HELPPPP!
Burnt my ear trying to use the bathroom blow dryer as a telephone.
He broke the bed, AND shit in the closet. What a way to lose his virginity. What a night.
Back. Waiting on Thong the shuttle bus driver. THONG
You have a long distance relationship and I have a long distance snapchat sexting buddy. If that doesn't describe who we are as people then I don't know what does.
You have set the bar insurmountably high with apple pie and buttsex.
I had to fake it. He was punching my vagina like it owed him money and enough was enough.
The only words we could get out of him as he stared catatonically into space were "Everyone I know and love is dead"
I'm laying backwards. On the stairs. Eating carrots. And drinking from a captain Morgan bottle.
It's all fun and games until your mom recognizes your bootycall from 2018 as her attorney
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