i woke up this morning in my bathroom,naked, with my boxers around my face and puke and shit on the floor and wondering why i didn't have a toenail on my one big toe.
compared to you, a hobo is quite responsible.
The sky will open, cue choir of angels: "oh! wow! Matt was right! Not only will I grow out my bush, but I'm going to date straight, available men!"
i love rice pilaf. whoever invented that i would give them a hug.
i just practiced my bj skills on a banana in front of the mirror
its going to be a good night
at the gym hungover with vodka in a water bottle. don't say i'm not fulfilling my resolutions
I found a vibrator in my car and it's not mine...this is becoming a weird day.
you should give me head with plastic fangs in
the girl walking home behind me started yelling and pointing "i want an ass like hers!" i feel vaguely accomplished.
this lesbian fantasy crush is getting WAY out of hand. just spent an entire meeting staring at her long fingers thinking, "oh those could be fun"
I've got a whole match.com system. Triple book. First dates always get the 6pm happy hour drinks slot. 8pm dinner goes to a girl where I think I can close the deal. 10pm slot goes to the sure thing in case of emergency, but 6 can always trump 8 and 8 always trumps 10. Just blame it on a dead iPhone battery.
That, my friend, is how I bang 50 new girls a year. Not luck at all. It's science and statistics.
somehow I feel like "adventures with cocaine and molly" wouldn't be an appropriate "How I Spent My Spring Break" essay topic.
I guess "Ass Fun Friday" is not a thing no matter how many times I say it or bring it up in conversation...
The bump on my forehead, i think, was from falling asleep at front door, on my knees, slumped over. But we played good music so what?
I'm sitting next to the guy that peed in our drying machine
her idea of a romantic time is a bottle of jager, some Guacamole and chips.
can't go wrong with guac.
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