we were fucking and all I could think about is how my silly bands were glowing in the dark.
I'm now at that point where it just feels natural to do a few shots of whisky with breakfast and then head to work
I almost shit my pants in anger over your moral sanity.
Rule of thumb; if you ask me if my tits are fake you will not get to touch them.
Things in my bed this morning: a Waffle House hat, a finding nemo DVD, sharpies, my graduation robes and an adult diaper. Did we play drunk scavenger hunt again?
I'm using my breathalyzer result sheet as a coaster for my 40.
Only in my life does a conversation about Hanukkah lead to sexting
Today's weekday brunch started at 2pm, and consisted of $7 of sandwich and $50 of cocktails. Also, I hustled the bartender for about $3 playing nickel poker, but he may have been letting me win. Either way, he didn't get into my pants.
it is my last wish that my tale be published posthumously as a warning to anyone thinking of eating burger king at nine am
I woke up with my wool blanket soaking wet on the dorm room floor, and my sweatshirt hanging on the shower door down the hall. So basically my camp-out-in-the-bathroom idea didn't turn out as planned
I should've left when he told me that he only smoked crack by accident once
Cookies and nudity, all you need in life
woke up this morning and she was gone. but she left a box of donuts on the counter with a note saying "for all the 'o's you gave me last night"
I was at his place until 2am. We just sat really close an stared at each other. I think you are right. Germans must not have feelings. Not even tingly ones in their pants.
And then there was cum in my hair and he was making beans.
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