I called the bartender Mr. Intoxication last night. He thought it was funny until i threw up and blamed it on him
we ike ciroccccc we love patroneeeee shost shothosthsothosthostsssss veryboyddddyyyy
go home
he burped in my vagina and tried to deny it...
It felt like getting blasted with a supersoaker filled with vagina juice.
No, I don't not want an upside down piggyback ride. You're drunk and there are rocks.
Turns out, his fucking is as lame and staggered as his NFL career.
The fact that he just came out makes his Lent commitment to give up gay sex so much more meaningful now.
P.s. remind me to tell you about the porno that Paul envisioned starring you. It's wizard of oz themed.
I think I just ate eggs off of a plate covered in cocaine.
Oh boom. You're officially Dr Phil. I need to have sex that I actually remember participating in.
Is it bad that I'm a 32 year old woman that is so afraid of commitment that a hamster is too much responsibility?
I hooked up with a guy dressed up as morning wood. Needless to say he lived up to his costume.
I'm trying to drink up the confidence to run in public.
I'm upset for all the future generations who can't drunkenly get cheesy bread
Can you send me the picture of me licking the cows udders?
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