So what's the moral of this story? Aside from 'lesbians hold grudges'?
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
so just incase I die tonight I'm making a list of people that I don't want to be let in to my funeral
I just spiked the applesauce. Try to tell me again your party is better.
I wish the ER had shaved that part of my head. It would be easier to show people my staples at the bar.
malibu coconut giveth, and malibu coconut taketh away
Hey. Be honored that I consider you the genital expert. I know alot of candidates for the position.
I no longer see him as a simple set of male genitalia attached to a very sexy body. The title "trophy fuck" seems wrong. Damn.
I know it I should, but it's kinda nice. It's smells like unbridled enthusiasm and copious amounts of melt your face off sex.
The amount of effort it's taking me to not shit my pants this morning is probably a sign to slow down the drinking
And I must've sleep walked to the fridge cause when I woke up, there I was, balls deep in a fudge pop.
This strip club is mediocre. Talent is fine. Fung shui is bad.
You gave me a bottle of tequila and introduced me to a ginger named cowboy. I actually love you.
I found more straws in my beard this morning. Please stop doing that.
I figured it out! There's blood on the kitchen floor because I fell into the dishwasher. And there's a face dent. And it doesn't work.
Yea.....I saw that happen.
Randomize
