i'm trying to reconcile what i did last night with who i am as a person.
I had a dream last night that I was the one that killed Biggie
you drank 3/4s of your half gallon of vodka, made a fort out of the kitchen table, and actaually had sex in in it.
I convinced a girl to do a shot of salsa someone fell through the whole on the porch and Sara swallowed a beer tab
You should probably wake up already as I have yet another story for you. Teaser? Blood from knife wound. Tequila. Guitar hero. Kitchen counter. Lawyer.
i feel like the wall was a canvas for his penis.
I mean we had sex in a crib. You tell me how my night was.
that freshman chick we always see on the weekends walked into art class wearing a jaegermeister shirt and holding a monster, which she proceeded to shotgun with a pair of scissors. It sickens me to know I will never achieve her level
I should put together a new mom basket for her. It would have diapers, vodka, ambien, and tissues for when she cries about her wasted youth.
I'm two sheets to the sexual wind
Serious question: when you had my right nipple in your mouth, did my nipple ring have both of the balls on it, or was it missing one. Current situation: missing one.
I love our relationship. We just get drunk, show each other our tits, demonstrate sexual positions and make pasta. Then you go to bed and I sit around with your mom and cry about how proud of you we are.
I found you walking along the street hammered. You walked up said hi and handed me a beer.
You jumped into so many bushes for no reason
I had a dream last night that I used a condom when I had sex. That's how I knew it was a dream
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