He tagged himself in all of my pictures so he would get a notification if someone commented on it.
Restraining orders are what college is about.
Wednesday. Otherwise known, to you at least, as "there are two gay men in my bed" day.
You went from loaded cattleman, to football player, to better football player, to art major from Missouri. Your future was looking so good for a while.
We had sex in the tent after his 6th beer and while we were at it we had conversations with the people outside the tent.
Kinda sad when you get home on a Sunday morning and the paper guy HAND DELIVERS the newspaper to you...,
Its not gay if you're best friends and there's less than an inch of dick in the picture. That's where the line is drawn
It's raining beautiful colors and I don't know what the fuck is going on
My text message history should be ashamed of itself right now.
I'm reliable. I always make it home. I always throw up in the street too.
Did we really just set fireworks off in a cemetery? Or was that a dream?
I think so and I think we were sober.
I'm pretty sure he's playing the harmonica in my shower right now. I just really need to pee.
I'm not allowed back because I may or may not have insulted his beer. And the entire Czech Republic.
I just had a guy ask me if his "jewelry downstairs" would set off the metal detector.
When I go to hand him the blunt and he's eating a cookie and responds with "let me hit this cookie"
Well I only snuggle him I don't hump him. That's rude.
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