The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
I know I'm not learning anything when I can't even spell the name of the class I'm taking
I can't, I'm busy. I've been walking around Tokyo on google maps for an hour.
I woke up this morning with a hospital armband on containing all the information off my fake i.d. WTF did we do last night!?!?
Apparently, I woke him up at 4AM, and yelled "you're mad because we don't have sex," while grabbing his dick. Then immediately fell back asleep, dick in hand.
We decided I could make bicurious-jitos or ho-meh-jitos or heteroflexible-jitos. But not homojitos.
Is it possible to get a DUI in a wheelchair that's not yours?
After they flagged you, you hid in a bathroom stall and text me to bring you more shots. That kind of drunk.
I always "accidentally" drop a condom and make sure she sees it's a magnum. By the time I'm inside her and she realizes how small I am, it's all over in a flash and I'm done. Plus, they never call back so I never have to see the girl ever again. #gratefulforprematuretinypenis
On the way out the door to work grabbed the wine glass on the floor left for the ghost of Elijah and chugged it. PASSOVER.
So heartbroken my rebound has a rebound
I accidentally told my mom "the reason I didn't answer your call is because my phone was in my pants, on the floor"
We are bad people. This is why we are friends. <3
He’s got a big dick and a big ego. This could be fun
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