how was the sex?
he smelled like pickles and burnt hair.
well, there's that.
i mean really, i cant compete with a cucumber
i just want his dick, seriously i'm about to take trifiling lessons. we'll call my alter-ego blair and she will screw his brains out, girlfriend or not.
If its vodka, everyone is attractive. Tequila, everyone is dead sexy, single and fuckable.
he had more hair on his balls then in my Easter basket
someone lit off fireworks while I puked in the street. I was like congratulating me for making it through homecoming.
I just spent the last ten minutes making a timeline of my sex life. 2010 and 2011 I am calling "I can't believe Im still clean" years.
You crossed every boundary on the boundary spectrum last night. You're like the illegal immigrant of drunk actions. No more holiday drinking for you.
Oh and in case you were wondering it is not a good idea to eat weed brownies and then go out to the bar. When I got off the bar stool my high had just hit me and I felt like Bambi taking his first steps
He said it. He actually said "yes it's in".
This is Jewish guilt versus Irish Catholic guilt. We should tread carefully, or we could fuck up the space-time continuum or something.
I'm okay with that.
Not much. Some creepy guy on Grindr thinks he knows who I am and where I live. So I sent him to that place with jockstraps and bacon. Hope he has fun.
I lowered my expectations when he started off saying "ah missionary, my specialty"
I FUCKED THE WRONG FRIEND HELP ME
I just spontaneously learned how to embroider at three in the morning.
I also almost burned the house down in the process. Don't ask me how. It's a long story.
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