my number is 615-555-1212, <3 your favorite asshole
You don't have to be emotionally available for a blow job.
We can smell you smoking weed from downstairs and your little brother is asking why the upstairs smells like gasoline. Please smoke in the basement. XOXO dad.
I just ate a whole bag of celery instead of getting up to get a glass of water. That high.
There is something depressing about eating toast in a dark living room by myself using a paper plate that says: "Let's Party!"
Through drunken recall, I have managed to bring back awful memories of losing my virginity. And possibly traumatized my niece trying to get her to "learn from my mistakes".
There is a girl in my drunk limo who hasn't seen an uncircumcised penis. Hook me up with a picture.
I'll just save you what dignity you have left by letting what happened die with your lack of memory and/or liver.
I just closed two deals on my laptop from my bathroom while smoking a bowl, like a bawssss. Working from home is my favorite.
Literally the only clue I have to try and figure out my blackout adventures is a draft on twitter that just says "Mummies alive!"
The Easter sex puns were too abundant
I woke up and finished the bottle like a champ
he tried to have the "are we in a relationship" chat last night. I stuck my fingers in my ears, yelled lalalalalala very loudly at him and told him I would stop having sex with him if he ever tried that conversation again. bad person, or just being a realist?
there are LEGIT cum stains on my ceilling. ON THE CEILLING!! you tell me how the relationship was.
The last time we went to a costume party, you walked around in a loincloth with a cross and said you were Jesus. I'm eager to see how much more offensive you can be.
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