So my mom just called me into her room and showed me a condom wrapper she found in my room. "Oh that's from when I was like 16." I don't think that was very comforting.
the last thing i remember is fucking her. GAME CHANGER i woke up in another bedroom to her younger sister blowing me
Balcony sex scratched the shit out of my phone. Whups.
Um, yeah. You lit my birthday candles with a joint. Mom= not happy.
My favorite part was walking in the bathroom, you fixing yourself in the mirror, calling your reflection a fag, then throwing a haymaker into the paper towel dispenser before going back out to the bar.
Couldn't see or hear that well because she hit me on the back of the head with a bat. That is my excuse. Also the gin.
There is only one good excuse for how sore I am right now. And that is incredibly acrobatic sex. Unfortunately for me that is not my excuse.
Vegas should really enforce the buddy system because if not everyone is going to end up swimming during the water show in front of the Bellagio.
We laughed. We cried. We came everywhere.
He said I act like a cross between a kindergartener and a high 70 year old man. Which is inacurate because it fails to account for the disco obsession.
I started dipping tositos in my screwdriver last night
then apparently I went "not bad" and continued
He called us the '3 Amigos' and told us if hos ex wife came we had to jump the porch railing and hide in the bushes.
I can't figure out how to eat twizzlers and I have to be at a wedding reception in an hour.
Please never have kids.
I think there's an ice cream truck out back, but there's no way I can get pants on in time to catch it
Why is the microwave staring at me?!
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