So I finally got the Patron washed off my boobs.
I told her I had to go to work this morning, got fully dressed in a suit, walked her out, drove around the block, parked, and walked right back in my apt and went back to sleep..
We planned for the zombie apocalypse. In great detail. Of course there was booze involved.
My goal for this summer is to make enough extra money to be able to afford the ticket for water skiing naked.
Tonight will be judged a success if I walk out without having thrown up on my shirt.
You offered me some of your "Jungle Juice." It was just 151 and Absinthe. I don't know how you are still alive.
The sex was so bad. I kept sending people snapchats of my face during it.
I was talking to another guy at the bar last night and all of a sudden a flying piece of Sausage lands on my boobs. Then I hear my boyfriend yell, "just marking my territory."
Only time and a comprehensive case study of all of your relationships will tell.
It's not vacation until I get called "disgustinly sexy" by an fat woman whose older than my mother.
My potted cactus died. I am literally less nurturing than the desert.
She slapped a big dramatic bandage on my arm and people started buying me drinks...I plan on wearing a full body cast tomorrow night.
We fucked on the roof... like that has to mean something
What the hell kind of sad excuse for a bottom are you
You aaa... you ever forget to wipe your ass?
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