So I went home with some chick last night... I'm not sue what's worse: not getting a nut at 5am, the condom breaking and not being replaced, feeling poo when I put my finger in her but, sleeping on a heroin mattress in her living room, her swine flu coughing fit at 7am or realizing she peed the matt at 10am. Actually it was probably the fact that she continuously told me she was the classiest girl in boulder.
she tossed me in the back of the car and said "god gave u the gift of life and I wanna swallow it"
I don't remember anything other than how good it felt when I peed my pants.
I have 20 seconds to get my life together and look presentable.
If you feel like laying around and watching a movie, that's where I'll be for the next several hours not moving, blaming others, and generally feeling sorry for myself.
I've come to the conclusion while folding laundry and watching porn that I may be dead inside.
Masturbating on the clock at work is my specialty.
Faces of meth called, they want their look back.
And I wasn't prepared because its been a very long and lonely season and I wasn't expecting to find dick at Press Box trivia night....
These muscle relaxers obviously don't work because I'm harder than a fucking diamond.
What'd I miss?
Erotic hypnosis and studded dog collars.
Babe, holding my hair while i blow you doesn't count as being romantic
Went to bed in my room fully clothed, woke up naked in the kitchen with the dog looking unamused.
when I finally convinced you to get off the floor you looked at me wild-eyed and said "the carpet was a VAST EXPANSE OF SEA"
We went to the midnight donut shop and you hopped the counter and told everyone to "Get the Fuck out of your Bar" but to also "Make yourselves at home".
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