i cant even explain all the reasons why i dont want to fuck you right now.
i don't care what you say, the winery is open and 10am is NOT too early to go barrel tasting
there comes a time in a mans life when you ask yourself, will i fake love for blowjobs? and the answer is always yes
pretty sure i saw you masturbating on chatroulette a minute ago. yes, i can recognize your cock
I THOUGHT I SAW YOU
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threw up in a bar last night and got laid on an air mattress. my bucket list just got a lot shorter
idk. I was on the deck with Dominic and i felt something weird on my arm. I looked down and you were licking my elbow.
I know. He gave me a hug and i was like jesus i can just feel the std through your sweatshirt
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
Tried making out with pop rocks in my mouth. That shit is magical.
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I've decided he is effectively a mouth, hands and cock held together by bad ideas and compliments, and I'm OK with that.
I'm just sitting here drunk and eating peas because my life sucks
Yes. I masterbate to Harry Potter. It's what our generation does.
You can’t judge a dick by its balls.
i love discovering the tokens of our drunkenness from the night before. it's like easter egg hunting. today: smashed pizza rolls in the sink.
I need advice on ways to politely say “fuck you on your way to hell”.
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