At the Phils game. My gay buddy just wanted up to a bunch of Mets fans and said "I'm gay, and even I think Mets fans are a bunch of fags." I love this fuckin town.
I'm doing a half mile walk of shame carrying a trash bag and still very drunk. Save me. I feel like a refugee.
I'm dreading the fact that when the dominoes guy comes, he will ask me if i placed an order under the name "high as shit".
We had to put his head at the bottom of the driveway so the puke would run down. Now he's sleeping outside.
Pulling over on the side of the road to set off fireworks was the worst idea you have ever had. I don't care if it was called a friendship pagoda.
I heard an explosion in the backyard. You told me you were playing "will it burn".
I think I just wrote a poem about your penis but it was totally unintentional.
I think it says something about my sobriety when I don't notice a Taco Bell wrapper stuck to my ass until I'm in the shower...
I will have to bone him sometime between now and July so he will move all my shit again
well when I said that I would ride his face until he ran out of oxygen, that's when I knew I shouldn't be around beautiful people anymore.
I mean, you have to swipe right on someone you had sex with last week though, right?
Then, he ate me out while I watched Bo Burnham. Best. Night. Ever.
I made out with him in the club and he endorsed me on Linkedin. My networking skills are off the charts.
I balled in the shower for 20 minutes, rolled up to the meeting late looking like a gremlin, and my one night stand was standing there in a suit
I called him my big strong man today. It's all downhill from here. Matching Christmas sweaters, here we come
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