I wasn't fucked. I was just drunk, because i was still able to walk into the woods and masterbate.
My workout was carrying 2 cases home from the grocery. It's Bowl Week.
You were yelling in my ear let's double team her with her right next to us
hungover subway ride filled with german tourists and a mariachi band. too early. too fuckin early
at some point i feel off my bar stool straight into the arms of a gay guy. just my luck.
i put that paper plate back in your cabinet because i ate all the ketchup off and you can't even tell. you're welcome.
There were gay boys and a jukebox. It was like god wanted me to.
I've been told that their best stripper is on maternity leave. NEVER AGAIN.
There's nothing like telling your girl to hold your pants while peeing on your neighbors door
She crossed her eyes and threw up into a glass while sitting at the bar. It was fifty shades of sketchy dude.
I've noticed we have slowly begun to phase the "B" out of our Bromance.
the straight edge chick smoked with me, because according to her my bowl is pretty
My booty call fought through ice and a foot of snow to get here. He brought booze, food, and cigarettes for three days. My vagina is the greatest motivator of all time.
With my son watching me, I pulled down my pants and shit in her trash can.
Because talking after sexting is equivalent to cuddling after sex
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