are you still at the devil's house?
East Village: Only place you can play pac man while eating a pineapple hotdog, go to the bar next door and see a graphic blowjob on every tv
My face smells like last night's lay. I need a whore bath. Or a corndog.
I think drunk me is telling hungover me something... I just have to crack the code.
So he thinks I sent him a picture of my boob last night, but it was really just a close up of my arm.
did you by any chance leave me that 7 minute long voicemail of you running and constantly tripping into bushes?
i think he saw me take a picture of his dick
I paused mid sex to tell him I wished I'd taken up barrel racing so I could ride better.
I just don't know the best way to tell him I think I saw him in a porn. I mean I got off to it, isn't there some level of awkwardness there?
I don't go out. I live in my room watching Bridget Jones and thanking my vibrator for existing.
I'd help you out but I got Bacardi and Tequila poured down my snorkel last night and I'm still drunk
I ate a hotdog off the ground last night.
I tried sex in a car once. It was like trying to do yoga in a drainage pipe with your arms and legs tied while using a typewriter with your penis.
Update: drank half a bottle of Bourbon and texted three ex's. Waiting for the roommates to go to sleep so I can raid the fridge.
You stuck your false lashes to your upper lip and then asked that ONE kid with facial hair if your "mustaches could touch" as an excuse to make out.
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