Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
I woke up hungover and reached for a glass of water only to realize too late that it was vodka sprite with my splooge in it.
He's fat, has man boobs, and is uncircumsized. I feel like I won the last woman on earth prize.
Everyone agrees they like your mother better drunk
It was mandatory to shotgun a beer before we were allowed to eat dinner
I legitimately just tried to piss above my head. I got to my chest at highest. There's piss everywhere.
I should just black out in my front yard again- that was a great nights sleep.
So apparently after I spilled candle wax down the front of my pants, I went to the store, bought condoms, and passed them out to everyone at the bar.
I thought they were lying to me about the condoms, until I found the receipt in my pocket.
It was like something out of a fucked up fairy tale. He just crowdsurfed over to her while riding a keg, said "come sail with me", and then the crowd carried them off into the night. What.
No foreplay. Missionary. Too quick. And he owns a fedora.
I almost fell asleep reading that.
I almost fell asleep fucking it.
I consider my hand a solid 5. So if I'm dipping below a 7.5, I might as well go with old faithful.
I'm glad your nude photos turned out "classy" but you cannot hang them in the living room.
Don't tell him that you hope he dies in a boring missionary position with his wife. That doesn't go over well.
I walked out and he was covered in jelly, slithering around the floor. I don't know how to process that.
Then you got drunk and shit in her car. Nothing before that matters. She isn’t calling you back.
Randomize
