You don't understand, Single Ladies is like the Don't Stop Believing of the gay community.
It's like alcoholism for beginners at my kitchen table.
Def walking back to my apt with a blender, an empty vodka bottle, and a half eAtn drumstick cone.
I AM SUCH A BETTER PERSON ON DRUGS
I want to apologize in advance for texting you a picture of my penis tonight.
2 things. 1. I just gave her a 6 hour long marathon fucking for America. 2. Thought of a new invention halfway through, and it's flawless.
I have a fannypack full of condoms and acid. Let's get weird.
Can we put this graduation on the shelf figuratively and go drink
Robert just walked in drunk, grabbed my Jameson from me, told me to let him do his thing, and spilled it all over the coffee table. Then he told me to grab a funnel because he was going home.
Last night I was this close to hooking up with someone called "Handjob Pat" dubbed for the time he paid $150 for a handjob in Canada.
The entire state will know me by my boobs.
He went out to smoke and when he came back I was still in the same spot naked and unable to breathe.
All I could say was, "ladies and gentlemen, THIS is why I drive 30 mins"
I think you just described to us the most perfect drunken fairy tale that has somehow never been written
I don't want a big night. But I am okay if we wake up in a penthouse at Crown Casino.
Let me call you later. I’m lining up some office dick now that working at home is ending
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