I told the girl in his bed not to bleed on his sheets like the last one.
Just violated the laws of fuck-buddyship and talked to him about my personal life. I don't like it.
That's the last time you call me to prove to some girl at a bar that you're English. It's bad enough that you actually get to fuck them because of it without having to wake me up to seal the deal.
Just found out drinking 6 trays of random shots makes me wake up on a club toilet with my underwear and jeans around my ankles
She was giving me that "well this is awkward since you drunkedly tried to hook up with me" look.
She's currently upstairs fucking her boyfriend while I am downstairs making them a sex playlist watching her boyfriend's Weiner dog and large Boxer try and mount each other. Marvin Gaye is playing. This is the ultimate third wheel fail.
He took the bartender's challenge and took a Jello shot with a tarantula frozen inside.
Text me back. Urgent. It is a porta Keep the portal alive.
Is this the acid talking?
Moral of the story is go have sex with a foreigner and report back to me.
Also I feel that I would be a hell of a sled dog operator.
My mind's like "He's a sexist pig" but my uterus is like "YOU SHALL BEAR HIM STRONG CHILDREN"
AND HOLY SHIT FLUBBER IS ON NETFLIX
All I'm saying is that if he knows his wife walks around naked during the day, he shouldn't bring a friend home for lunch and show up unannounced.
So I forgot to ask, how was that bartender you slept with two weeks ago?
Google chlamydia.
he invited me over. we listened to jazz, smoked weed, then cerebrally fucked each other over a three hour game of chess
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