We left the bar, went to a sex shop, bought penis shotglasses, went back to the bar and insisted that the bartender used them.
she's crying while babbling "all i do is win"
I think I have internal bruising from those poses we were doing last night. My own ribs hurt me. I don't understand.
i looked up and she was looking over the stall watching me pee and told me to unlock the door. that dedicated to sucking my dick.
we traced the origins of this shit fest of a relationship back to a single instance of road head. then we did a reinacment
I blacked out at the bar, and blcked in getting a handjob on a roller coaster. Sober me is jealous of drunk me.
Idk. Im in a bed. the walls are wood. There's a deer mount.. im afraid to turn over and see who's next to me but he's violently cuddly.
You said you didn't want to drink anymore so you started shooting vodka down the back of your throat using a syringe. Oh, and then you aimed it at my eye ball...vodka in the eye hurts btw.
Thanksgiving. This year's theme: I am thankful that I still have a liver.
Didn't get the job. Searched for my references on FB and saw the pic of me weighing my head passed out.
One time she made a chronological chart for the guys she has given blow jobs to, I shit you not.
He's living a porn movie. He's slept with a waitress at her work for lunch, a bar tender at the bar that night, and the cleaning lady the next morning.
I say I'm working from home on conference call days, but really I just mute the phone, put that shit on speaker so I can hear what's going on, and let Marcus fuck my brains out.
One day I'll learn not to get drunk on a plane. Today is not that day.
I don't know what's wrong with me. The guy from bar rescue is making me horny
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