So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
first off, his name is dougie. strike one.
So the bartender just told me that there was numerous people who saw me having sex on the rooftop last weekend. +1
The last thing i remember is saying breakfast beer and carrying the keg to my room and locking the door.
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I just realised I've never been sober in my apartment
Ok so now that we've actually had sex do I get the last name or are u really witness protection status?
I shouldn't be home alone with this much peanut butter and the dog. I feel like i'm being recorded to see when my desperation will peak.
i think i have weasels eating my brain. Also there is a skeleton staring at me from the back of the bathroom door. it's an awkward vomit. come find me please
DOWN HORMONES. BACK.
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As his dick went in he shouted GOAL at the top of his voice.
We were high as shit. We argued for like ten minutes about going to Dunkin Donuts and then just ended up rolling down hills. Thanks for the weed.
I don't know if I should feel proud or ashamed of myself...ashamed for making myself a drink at 6:15am or proud for actually being awake that early.
Need to find a Santa hat to fit my penis, he deserves to be festive too.
Just remember, the Browns have more wins than Ronda Rousey this year.
Masturbating with Lord of the Rings on was not how I planned my afternoon going but here I am.
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