Need sex. Gaining weight.
god damn woman. you are like the herpes of drunk texting. you never go away.
you ran down to the water at 3am and rolled in the sand and ran around screaming that you were the corn dog monster.
two words: fractured penis. two more: emergency room.
We waited til after. Not even drunk sex felt right during a Disney movie.
I can't tell you details but at one point I had her pee strapped to my back in a ziploc
I was the king of the handle race. My team finished it in 56 minutes.
you don't get it. Nobody wins a handle race. there just degrees of losing.
We'll I told him I wanted to keep it PG last night, but then later I asked him to take his pants off. So i'm guessing it was my fault.
We waved. But it was a "let's hook up" wave.
You were so drunk, you called my cruise control, the "auto pilot" and asked my car politely to take us to Taco Bell.
The maid moved your bed and found almost 40 used condoms and wrappers. She just looks at me and says "Dave?"
I remember doing shots of gin, then I have this strange memory of us making out in the womens room at waffle house.
I regret none of it.
We started off talking about nice cuddling and you turned it into fucking with a Santa hat on...
THE FASTEST WAY TO MY HEART IS THROUGH FAMILY SIZED BAGS OF GENERIC BRAND CHEESE BALLS
Firstly: alligator costume is happening anyway. But I'll see what I can do about the balls.
Randomize
