Took her home last night and it was like trying to put an oyster in a slot machine. I may have drank a little too much.
I'm heating up a hotdog using a candle.
okay, I promise to stop paying strippers to hit you
The prostitute across the street from us is having a seizure on her front lawn again.
Last thing I remember was you straddling a guy in a wheelchair on the dance floor.
Between the walk of shame, bar fight, karaoke, injuries, number of bar check-ins, and variety/quantity of alcohols and Advil consumed, I'd say HookerFest 2012 was a raging success.
The thumbs up barstamp on my hand is mocking my hangover with its positivity.
We don't really communicate like that.
Communicate like what?
Communicate like people who want to see each other when their genitals are inside their pants.
You don't know commitment until you try and waterproof a non-waterproof vibrator
He's on the floor in just a Burberry tie. All my girl parts just tapped out.
Apparently we stole a dog last night. I woke up and it was just staring at me. But we fed it left over KFC for breakfast so it's cool.
I was less embarrassed asking him to torrent the teen mom's porn. I'm not gonna ask him to about season 4 of PLL.
I was having a serious heart-to-heart, and then the weed gummy kicked in.
I need to hurry up and get over my feelings for him so next year's tipsy reunion sex won't be clouded by emotions.
You've been inside me, dude. There's no such thing as TMI.
Randomize
