Hey man thanks for carrying me in and out of that frat house. There's no I in team.
all I remember is repeatedly winking at the fire marshall while he was counting the people in the bar
WHY. COME BACK. TRAPPED WITH ROOMMATE AND FALCON. SAVE ME. I HAVE HUMMUS.
I tried to explain to the cop how we all have skeletons in our closets but he just wouldn't listen.
You drunk dialed me and told me to jump out of my second story window so I could give you head. I almost considered it.
Oh if I trust ANYTHING about you it's your ability to lead a douchebag around by the dick
I want to get business cards and hand them to hot guys and say " hey if you ever want to like makeout and pretend it never happened call me"
Just letting everyone know that I am still alive after last night. On a related note, this is the 15th "I'm not dead!" mass text I've sent. You've got to celebrate the little things.
Bar selfie Saturday turned into bar nudie Saturday in a hurry. I need to delete my snapchat...
Sending out old nude selfies with the message "#tbt"
Okay first of all, that is a sick ass nickname please call me that forever. Second, i need your help.
And since we used to fuck you are absolutely obligated to like my tweets
hotelroom bed is big enough to masturbate in, but small enough to not want to sleep in it after you've masturbated in it
Saddle up bitches, we're going to an orgy.
His bedroom is the preferred destination of MILFs, cougars, recent divorcees and sexually frustrated wives
His penis is my hero
Randomize
