I puked off the balcony.
Not horrible
Into the hottub. There were six people in it. I had eaten all their pizza.
My new excuse for sleeping with him was in celebration of his cat's birthday.
On the back of that comment, I've formed a theory that as a result of my brainwashing your drunk self actually believes that beards are your calling.
If you do that, i will make all sorts of uncomfortable comments about my nipples being soft
we had break-up sex in a port-a-potty. how do you think it went?!
Every now and then I'll meet one who is talented in the art of shower gymnast.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
To confirm, you are a grown ass man and you just asked me what her vag looked like.
Is it bad that I want a job purely so I can buy drugs with without feeling like I am sacrificing my future?
Why do you think I have a job?
I can't wash the smell of tacos off my hands. I feel like the Lady Macbeth of Chipotle.
I only drink at bars with bathrooms big enough to have sex in.
My hot gay tattoo artist grew a beard and I'm not taking it well.
I can always count on you to keep my boobs honest
i keep smelling vagina and donuts, which pretty much sumarises this morning. happy birthday.
if my 20s were a chapter in my autobiography, it would be called "the room is spinning and my hands smell like dick"
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