I thought I drunk dialed Adam last night and left him a voicemail. I just checked my phone. I realize I left a drunk voicemail with my son's teacher.
someone shit in a solo cup and left it at the base of the stairs. fuck orlando dude.
Apparently mid blow job I started crying telling her how "Wonderful this blow job is"
The stoners next door have their couch on the sidewalk again, shirtless, soaking their feet in a baby pool and listening to loud ukulele music. I want their life.
There is someone hissing in the hallway. Not even a typo. Not pissing. Hissing. Like a large cat. Or a komodo dragon.
I just started talking about my sextoy because I wanted things to be normal again.
They were swingers. Real swingers. Thought it was going to be awesome until some fat guy tried to put my dick in his mouth.
We have a vagina exchange agreement. Neither of us can hook up with any of our own law firm's summer associates. So we have a scout and referral program and invite each other to the other firm's summer events. Criss-cross!! Works every summer.
I'm texting an actual stripper. A male stripper. I dont wanna talk about it yet
I had 17 beers 2 days ago. I'm not dad material yet
We're eating jello shots in the library. I love the day after Valentine's
I left after he drunkenly went into the kitchen and started to make eggs with a shitload of garlic. First time I'd ever had a makeout session interrupted by eggs.
Should I apologize for the loud sex I had in his living room? Because I'm not going to.
Definitely not.
I have hit the ultimate fuck buddy status. We pulled over in a construction zone to have a quickie.
Like my mom really needs to know just how non existent my sex life is
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