So this shipmate of mine somehow managed to throw up in his back pocket.
May or may not have found my way onto a stripper bus. To Chicago.
Never get a handjob from a girl who gives deep tissue massages.
i will pay you if you can come get me. he just suggested that we would have a hockey themed wedding.
There's a hand-carved wooden bong in my backpack, and i really wish i could remember last night now.
And I was slip and sliding my life away on a giant tarp with tons of soap and bitches. Priorities man, priorities.
woke up to a family dragging me under their beach umbrella, they poured water on me bc they "thought I was dead" then fed me quesadillas and nursed me back to health... gotta love Cabo
The date officially concluded on the phrase "Nosh dat vag".
this night may include but is not limited to : police encounters, wild animals, stomach pumping, and waking up in a field
I'm at that point in my life where stripping isn't the worst thing I would do for money
then you dropped a clam in a draught beer like it was a drop shot and and started chugging as beer spewed all over your body.
This night could easily degenerate into a drunken haze of strippers and gambling, but I need a support network.
The people around me on the bus dont know im wearing glowsticks under my clothes. I feel like a super hero.
Sex. Target parking lot. I really am the mayor.
The cops asked Ben if he was drunk and he slurred "I'm man enough to admit that I am" with a southern draw
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