So I feel really bad about last night...can i give you a blow job and we call it even?
It was like little house on the drunk prairie.
My body isn't even mad at me...just disappointed
She thought someone was breaking in but when I said it was me she got even angrier and threw a coffee mug at my head.
He's just sitting there staring at my sisters teddy bear hoping it will come to life.
And I feel like pitchers of margaritas accidentally make it down your throat a lot.
I mean, the lady at the Mexican restaurant insisted. She said she would win a prize if she sold another pitcher before noon. And plus I got to wear a sombrero
Dude that soap I drank last night is fucking killing me.
If I have to strap one on and give it to you good, you will not die revirginated. That's friendship.
It's like... Even my horoscope knows I had an awkward threesome last night.
DON'T WEAR PANTS.
I REPEAT.
DO. NOT. WEAR. TROUSERS.
it was good, but also weird. like, i came four times and then cried weird.
I'm so hungover that I just wrote up my will because I'm afraid I'm gonna die. I'm leaving you my bong.
Well I can't be held accountable to know every which time you slid a finger here or slid a finger there. I'm way too busy getting close to climaxing to document these things.
Turns out he's not a Doctor Who fan, I mumbled Alons-y as I went down on him. He asked who Alan was. No more drunk sex for me!
I'm fucking camped out by the bathrooms. I think the poopatrator is in there. Wtf is my life
Almost an end to the saga.
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