he ate out my asshole, i really don't think he gets embarrassed easily.
oh yeah I know that guy. he's legit. slept in my closet a few times
so the last visual we have of him for the next 87 weeks is him outside on the ground rolling around yelling I HATE BLOWJOBS
Shots and making dong molds for my gf's friends. Typical Monday night activities.
Vegas should really enforce the buddy system because if not everyone is going to end up swimming during the water show in front of the Bellagio.
It doesn't matter how many times you look in your purse, Your keys are not going to be there. Maybe you left them at the bar.
Maybe they fell out of my pocket last night when I rolled down the hill.
We were fucking at break-dick speeds.
I was the king of the handle race. My team finished it in 56 minutes.
you don't get it. Nobody wins a handle race. there just degrees of losing.
Finally buying a camera. Missed out on recording a 3way last night. Hindsight. Ugh.
I dont know what we smoked last night but I woke up and found out I started writing a book called White Trash Princess. Its the best thing Ive ever read
Everytime I get drunk I wake up hugging the bag of bagels from three months ago
I mean I puked all over three separate towns last night and I still think you're the one who should reevaluate their life.
Rule #36, branched off rule 4: Dave stays on a leash in crazy settings. It keeps him good and gets you laid.
So essentially he's like a puppy you can bring to a bar? Retractable leash or chain then?
You faceplanted on the railroad tracks and when I tried to tell you to get up, you told me you were "taking a quick breather"
I think next time I give head I'm gonna try making the chewbacca noise.
I look forward to it
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