were not allowed back there because i puked on the waitresses foot while trying to order another round. for myself.
I picked my nose. Flicked it. I heard it hit something. Next thing I know, it's floating around in my wine glass.
He knows as soon as he hits chameleon eye status drunk, he is guaranteed to piss the bed we NEED to push him there
it was a 10 min screaming orgasm. i don't care that you were next door and didn't appreciate all the noise.
is cock-oriented a word? I'd say I'm that lately.
The first clue should've been that he literally had shit in his hair. How does that even happen?
They put 3 tbs of cinnamon in vodka shots and called it the "cinnamon death challenge"
dude my grandma just called my dealer. How does this shit happen to me
Seriously I'm dying. All my insides are fighting their way out of me. With light sabers and machetes.
It's like everything I need in life within a five block radius: booze, toilets, dogs, dicks.
The number of mornings I actually have to say out loud to myself "you must put pants on and go to work" to get motivated is...troubling.
After you smoke one night. Just whisper in a barely audible voice, "Grey Poupon"
I was very impressed with his ability to carry on a conversation with his friends sitting in the front seat with his hand in my pants, getting a hand job, stoned, with a cigarette in his mouth. I think he's a keeper.
PANTIES FOUND
I couldnt sleep the entire night because her cats kept reaching under the door like they were trying to eat me for taking their place on her bed.
I always knew youd fuck a cat lady
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