Drunk x Brooklyn = problems getting home. If I don't make it you can have my computer and my bitches. You're welcome.
2 showers later and I'm still finding cum on random body parts of mine
I usually would've stopped there but I kinda remember opening the bottle of vodka, and we ALL know that's when things go downhill.
I found a digiorno pizza in my washing machine.
Dude she was 62...with a boob job. And I'm proud to say I made out with that.
Not sure. We'll pass out on that bridge when we stumble to it.
I don't give a damn about what he wants to do with his life. Personalities are for pussies.
When we were done making out, some guy ran into the room yelling, "I'll save you Brandon! I'll save you!"
Whatever. I am not explaining the physics of my dick slapping.
He offered to let her do a line of coke off his hard-on. She said she'd had that hard-on and it would be a bump, not a line. Everyone laughed. That's why he left.
So that answers the first question but not the second: how the fuck am I getting home?
You were petting your bowl of cocoa puffs and shushing it softly while staring at the mirror
Just come home. We will have sex and Taco Bell. I'm feeling wild, I put on temporary tattoos.
He said it only counts if it ends up on the internet
Last night I tried to apply for a job at ihop. That drunk.
You took off your shirt and pulled out a bottle of cherry uv and a slushee. That's when I knew you came to party
Randomize
