I called Tyra Banks a whore to her face. A sure sign I should go home. Instead I went to the gay bar.
I just woke up to my FedEx of contacts I've been waiting for for about a week and my hungover ass went to the bathroom and used beer instead of contact solution.
My history with restaurant waiters is severely limiting our dinner options.
based on the size of her vibrator, i'm going to be a huge disappointment
I just typed 14 shots of Smirnoff into my calorie count toolbar. Then typed pole dancing 1.5hrs into the calorie burner search. Should break even.
Wait wait wait. I remember riding in her car to the next bar. On your lap. With my head on the dashboard. That probably should have been my cut off point.
I need the number of a restaurant that delivers, has lock-picking abilities, and is okay with full frontal male nudity. Entirely too hungover to get out of bed.
I was just told that i'm a premature cuddler. . . What does that even mean?
Whatever it is you failed
I'm eating crumbled blue cheese out of Tubbaware. My life is nothing.
New carpet is nice. I'm making carpet angels. Like a fresh snowfall.
I wore a bird inflatable and still got laid. So there's that.
Did you know they have a bouncer at Applebee's because I did not
Oh by "being festive" I mean make tacos for dinner.
You're still my best friend even though you continue to pass out on random toilets every time you drink
I am mentally ready for anal.
Randomize
