and trust me i need no booty pop lessons
he asked me if i had ever jacked off high and then referred to it as a "man-to-man question"
if by 'bottleservice' you mean 'bringing beers in my purse' then yes, we are.
And "sexual slave/chef" was as it turns out not a real career choice...
Great. I get laid, Leslie Nielsen dies. I can't have have sex anymore, the film community can't take another loss like this.
My fingers feel amazing. Their going like 100 MPH!!
HOLY SHIT. SHIT THAT IS HOLY. HOLY OF THE SHIT.
Me and the cabbie are stopping on the way at a sit down restaurant to eat. My life is so sad.
He put oyster crackers in his ramen noodles. Is that a thing? Because holy shit I had never thought of it before and if it's not a thing he's my new stoner hero for discovering it.
I woke up this morning with a sharpie tramp stamp. Pretty sure it's a picture of a squirrel.
I recently had a rabies scare because I thought putting socks on my hands to pick up a squirrel that got in my house was a good idea.
I'm at that point in my life where keeping an extra pair of underwear in my purse is normal.
After last night I never want to be in the back of a cop car again. No leg room.
At first I was nervous, then drunk me thought: What other chance will you realistically have to fuck a British guy?
You know it's been a rough week when you funnel beers by yourself.
My pizza delivery guy was so hot I was like omg please let this be the beginning of a porno
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