I'm outside your house...sorry I feel like I don't need formal invites anymore.
Too much gin, very little bucket
The orgasm outlasted the Charlie horse. Pros and cons.
That awkward moment when you can't tell what smells like tacos: you, the cat, or the strange guys blanket your so tenderly swaddled in.
Woke up on a mattress on a roof this morning with a pair of briefs next to me. Oh fleet week.
I have whiskey and jager. There's no telling what kind of monster will emerge
Don't feel sorry for me. I'm getting Red Lobster and sex tonight. Nothing can bring me too far down.
Also I owe you 20 bucks, a clean towel and a glass of scotch. I'll even throw in a blow job
I'm seeing double so when I get home can we have a threesome?
He ate the contents of an ashtray and didn't puke, I think he can handle drinking a fifth to himself.
You would think by the size of the lump on my ass that I would have remembered falling down a flight of stairs.
if you're wondering why I texted you some girl's name at 4 am it's because you wanted to Facebook stalk the girl who gave that Irish guy we met at the Chinese food place her license and said 'call me'
I could be the Kenny Powers of Sex Therapists.
All I remember was you telling him there was something behind him so he would turn around and you could slide down his carpeted stairs on your belly without a shirt on. How's that carpet burn btw?
where are my eyebrows?
Randomize
