don't tell her this, but while we were doing it doggy style I picked up my phone and changed my status to "who let the dogs out"
i was like a deer caught in headlights with its coke-dick hanging out
Also, at 1:30 I emailed myself saying, "are you there Margaret? It's me, god"
The polaroid of me taking a test-tube of Jegar out of the gay guys mouth pretty much explains my trip to Spain.
We can add pilot to the list of people who's lives I've changed...with my penis.
in my defense i said 'lock up your wives' before going out.
He said I went to go sit outside and is promised I wouldn't leave he brings me a chair and I'm gone. He found me stumbling a half mile away in my socks
I am still STD free so as far as I am concerned I never went to panama.
That does it. We're drinking til we're pirates.
I don't know. She kept pirouetting across the kitchen while making dinner. I just sat there stoned.
Option 1: fuck me and bedtime. Option 2: come fuck me and then hangout with everyone. Option 3: don't fuck me in which case fuck you.
Just left a strip club where they let me on stage to teach them tricks. Time of my life!
Woke up behind one of the fraternity brothers houses in the grass wearing a guinness hat and aviators hugging a 30 rack box with a zonie on my chest next to a campfire.
At the funeral we'll say nice things, like "She was delightfully extreme, psychotically wonderful, and could probably drink all you fuckers under the table."
That's literally the perfect eulogy
His ass is a ten, but his personality is a two. Which would average to a six if I didn't have to figure in apologizing to all and sundry. In short hard no. Get a new wingman.
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