I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
You're so easy to please, it's adorable. Like an alcoholic puppy.
My wrist bandage is guacamole stained. What an accurate representation of my life as a whole
I should go buy the economy size box of condoms and sprinkle a path like rose petals to my bed... Think he'd get the hint?
You insisted we put glow sticks on you so that we didn't lose you if you went pee in the dark.
So the stripper who poured a beer on my head also gives great head. Even she doesn't know why she went home with me. No more mystery shot challenges.
I feel like our low point of the night was when we had to start chasing with ice cubes and wheat thins.
diet's not working. come over. i need someone to fuck the hungry out of me.
I am on my usual post-jerkoff high of eternal happiness. Like I could punch a fucking tiger.
Sorry, I thought I responded to your question. My name is Jon, we kinda had a sleepover at your friends place in OC. Don't know if you remember me, you were "dick chugging" like there was no tomorrow last night.
It was marvelous. I was drunkenly conversing with my professor in some of the best Spanish I've ever spoken.
Blizzard, Hour 9: I'm 7 beers deep and have finished Ninja Turtles. I am listening to the NYPD and Nassau Fire Dept pipes and drums and writing new drum scores in my head, which I may or may not remember tomorrow
Hey the moment you step into my house, find me IMMEDIATELY so we can pinky promise on not roping anyone at the party into yet another threesome
I'm so stoned. We're making Josh's sister bake us brownies. She's so small and pixie like. Her brownies make me cry tears of happy.
Get your dick back in here. On Saturdays, you're not allowed to leave my bed unless it's to make me bacon or coffee.
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