I woke up with the wrong plaid-shirted guy in my bed.
btw, her name was actually Alixx. in retrospect, it was pretty much a gimme
at which point I apparently ran in and shouted "I made the sex with that one!"
Sorry for feeding you peanuts last night while you were sleeping, you looked hungry.
she walked out and i tried to get her to come back but i couldn't remember her name so i just whistled... future reference: that doesn't work
She looks like if Peter Griffin was a lesbian.
Run away.
On a scale of your daily life to smuggling crack into the DR, how illegal is it?
I don't know bro, all I could remember is that he kept saying hallelujah and calling that girl Slutimus Prime
my night ended with a pity blow in a racecar bed
I told him I would only take his calls if he was dead, dying, capturing a midget, or buying me shots.
I stand by my new policy.
The upside of a losing football weekend is that there are more sad frat boys willing to let loose their inner gay man.
When I was drunk texting him about three ways he seemed more interested in just seeing me. And that's when I knew something was wrong with him
All I'm saying is that any 24 year old guy who sends me a snapchat from the vantage point of his dick with the caption "hiding behind my weiner" is off my list potentially dateable guys.
Let's get matching tattoos, something that resembles our friendship
A tequila worm?
I’m also apparently a very socialist drunk now
Instead of a horny one. All I want to fuck is capitalism these days.
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