found out this morning via facebook that the guy i met last night has a wife and a baby and he took me to his apartment where he takes girls to cheat on his wife
i mean you met him at the daytona 500
she said 'i love fried rice', threw a condom at me and passed out naked.
This place doesnt have redbull or serve shots. Its like they are at war with fun.
I will start puting down the plastic for the vom in our love chamber. If you want to be something or someone else for the night feel free. The theme is shit show.
I'm there.
I feel like I knew it was fucked up, but feared that god would take my dick away if I didn't use it last night.
The to do list extremely baked self wrote for me last night says "1. Join gym 2. Passport? 3. Join a gym" And then just a drawing of a squid
Peeling duct tape off of my dick is definitely one of the stranger sensations that I've experienced.
Man...I want to get monumentally fucked tonight.
I told the bartender that his red, white and blue shots were terrible and tasted like Thomas Jefferson's balls.
LMAO I like how "don't worry I'll bring chasers" is your way of assuring things will be ok
So apparently, after 11 beers, 2 pitchers of sangria and 3 rhum & cokes, the idea of popping a load of MD and jumping on the trampoline, in the woods, in my underwear was the best one ever.
Never has jello made me angry to the point of drinking. But here I am.
I legitimately thought he died. I even called his mom at 3am and told her. Im done with vodka.
In what world does 'I'm awake' at 2:30 in the morning on a wednesday translate to 'let's fuck' in the span of one text? Where has the romance gone?
I called him my big strong man today. It's all downhill from here. Matching Christmas sweaters, here we come
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