I woke up with a crunchy, pink Pepto streak through my hair, no recollection of the last 6 hours of my night and the feeling that all the hotel's staff knew me on a first name basis.
I made out with Jen. We were naked. I'm still gay. Forever
She makes me want to eat babies and throw kittens in pots of boiling water.
There were two girls and a guy on a bed and now i can put porn director on my resume.
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She looks like she smells of sausage, sunblock and sorrow.
That's just weird. That doesn't make sense sexually at all. I mean, you might as well tape a pen to the tip and try and write your name while you're at it.
New drink: empty coke can vodka water maple syrup. Get on my level
I just set a reminder on my phone to get star spangled hammered this weekend.
three guys with a tattoo of the Walmart rollback smiley holding up a middle finger on their ass=free drinks in every bar
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We smoked with this guy who looked just like Hyde from that 70's show in an alley. It was a divine moment in my life.
then he told me my boobs feel like "if you put mushroom soup in a baggie." I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this.
His Instagram is like a gay porn blog all of the sudden got conquered by the Mormon missionary that he is
I want sex. When is an appropriate time post funeral to ask for something like that. Like when it gets dark out?
he broke off the kiss to ask "can I grab your boob?" like props for asking for clear and concise consent but there HAS to be a sexier way to do it
You left me a note that said "The Earth is blowing up. Bring the Rosé." WTF.
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