I'm sitting next to this guy at the bar. I wrote him a little song in my head it goes "there is no fucking chance you're getting in my pants" gonna sing it to him after he buys me another drink.
Don't feel too badly. Until twenty minutes ago my paper was a heading and a pizza order.
I fucked her on my hockey bag. it doesnt get any more Canadian than that.
just rolled a joint with wrapping paper.. and you say i have no christmas spirit
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Its 4 am and he honestly tried throwing pizza at his ceiling for decorations
I found her in the bathroom licking her screwdriver off the floor. she said there was no way she was wasting a $6 drink.
the girl walking home behind me started yelling and pointing "i want an ass like hers!" i feel vaguely accomplished.
I was informed that last night we held hands while puking on the curb outside the bar.
We just have a real special relationship.
Playing nyquil pong with a cat again
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I will give you the couch, a small portion of the fridge, and plenty of beer.
Got my future figured out. I'm oddly comforted. Thanks, bro.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
its not like i called off work either time for the purpose of tripping, it was more like well, i have nothing to do now today, there is acid and im only human.. but twice
Living a little to me does not involve choreographed Michael Jackson songs
How are you supposed to wish the guy you send nudes to good luck for the first day of his new job??
You know the story of the boner party, right? They got stuck in the mountains and ate each other?
It was the Donner party... boner party was the porn version...
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