The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
I just jerked it to the same porn two nights in a row... and she says I have problems with commitment...
I kept pulling the $1 bills off the stage and told everyone "no no no she has to work for this money"
I only wish the guy being lead around by his cock at the drag show was the weirdest part of my night.
I may or may not be taking a bath listening to the Phantom of the Opera. This lovely moment brought to you by xanax.
He gave me an elaborately handwritten invite (on a bar coaster) back to his place and whispered in my ear 'i have ping pong'. And he said byob. fuck THAT.
I need to do something profound in the next three and a half years so that when my kids ask what I did in my twenties I have something to say other than "made bad decisions"
Thanks for letting me rent out your vagina rec room. I don't expect the security deposit back.
His dick's name has evolved from Sebastian to Big Daddy to Barbara Streisand to Barbara Walters. I think the transformation is finally complete.
You don't know being judged until its 7:30 in the morning and you're on 2 hours of sleep halfway between drunk and hungover wearing pajama pants at an international airport while saying how proud you are that you found the airport's bar immediately and how disappointed you are that it's closed
I was floored. Like way less concerned with him using drugs than I am with him not believing in evolution.
I mean I've only met the girl once and she was trying to slit some guys tires.
Our Uber driver pulled over to show us Tinder some dick pics. Top that.
Nana added me on facebook...i think i'll have to call her and warn her about my lifestyle before i confirm her as a friend.
shots, cocks, socks. bingo
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