He locked about 20 beers in a suitcase and put it in the fridge. For a complete idiot, he's a goddamn genius.
You are the patron saint of my drinking problem.
I just had a flashback of 4:30am: me hugging the toilet bowl and you handing me a jar of pickles to open. There is something seriously wrong with us.
It's like being the dunk pilot of a plane full of pornstars and drunkenness.
Worst case scenario: I have VD and will die. That's the worst that could happen. As long as I'm around long enough to see the winner of bachelor pad, I'm cool
Not going outside. I may melt into a puddle of wine
So was I the only one that was competing in the whale hunt?
Some clips from last night: grinded like I haven't since college. Took shots with a bartender with a bad ass mustache. Made up a string of lies with fake names and occupations. Slept behind the couch with pizza in my hand
Now I'm obligated to stay and cuddle with her because the condom broke. Fuck.
He fucked me in his tour van, I feel like an official groupie.... Except I don't even listen to his band.
PLEASE AT LEAST MEOW SO I KNOW YOU AREN'T DEAD
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
He woke me up holding a gallon of apple juice and a shot glass...
yep, just sat in the backseat of my car for about five minutes looking for the vodka soaked underwear,when i came to the realization that i really gotta start getting my shit together..
He sent me a picture of his cock that seemed to indicate that we were still on good terms.
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