Laughlin, where retired strippers come to die.
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
He must be back home now. He moved his box of beer from her porch to ours.
she walked in on me snorting my prozac. there was no way to convince her i was doing a good thing.
As soon as they started using chocolate milk as a chaser for captain Morgan, I thought l it'd be best to leave.
i woke up in his neighbors pool house. Not sure how I got here but there is people swimming outside. how do I escape?
just fucking run.
The fuck-me-pumps were hot, the XL hoody kinda ruined it.
Just successfully invited my mom to a drag show. If that doesnt say "im gay" then idk what will.
All of my exes are either overweight and neckbearded or dead. Someone out there is looking out for me.
Finding an empty bathroom to shit on campus is like the quest for the fucking Holy Grail. Except with more stench and humiliation.
You need to somehow incorporate the phrase "these hoes ain't loyal" into your best man speech.
I feel a little uneasy about having my grandma sleep in my bed that I've banged chicks in not too long ago... Fuckin blizzards
Uhh I just had to break up with a guy who I didn't even know I was dating...
It's a good thing you're straight. You'd make a horrible lesbian.
She looked like a cross between Jesus and John Lennon. So I fucked her. I feel majestic and powerful.
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