I need a booty call who doesn't know my boyfriend or my friends.
my one-armed grandma is doing the YMCA. you figure it out.
me and this guy in my office just exchanged an "i saw you at a drag show last night" look as he passed by my desk.
"Guy Time" translaed into 10 shots apiece and me waking up covered in my own blood.
It all boils down to, who else do we know that is willing to buy our friendship?
Is that a tongue signal to get over there? That's how my two heads are taking it.
Felt like shit, jerked off, felt ten times better. Being a guy rules. It's like I got all the demons out in 5 minutes.
he gave me a thermos so I could take my coffee with my on drive of shame. I was unexpectedly grateful...
Drinking loves me for WHO I am
In other news: I found out that my mom used to fuck my newest fuck buddy's dad when they were in school.
Sorry that I was such a monster last night. It was the drugs, I promise.
I told the bartender that his red, white and blue shots were terrible and tasted like Thomas Jefferson's balls.
I feel like the dump I just dropped is the most successful thing I've done so far today.
My booty call is in the theater watching Deadpool right now. Never though comics would work against me.
Never let the horse trainer ride you, always ride the horse trainer. I have huge bruises on my thighs from his hip bones. That's how hard he rode me
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