How in the hell did I take a shot of whiskey to the eyeball last night?
It's that "make a Pringle and Twinkie sandwich" kind of depression.
hes supposed to be my fuck buddy. im not supposed to see him on his knees praying by my bed when i walk into my room.
I lull them into a false sense of security with my gayness. Then when they're vulnerable, I strike, like a snake. A big non-gay snake, with huge balls.
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I drunk-cried for all conjoined twins everywhere the other day.
You're tall, so I have high hopes for your dick.
I should have bailed a long time ago. I mean, he has a bible verse-a-day app next to his dick pics in his phone.
That awful moment when there is no more beer and you find yourself considering tequila and aloe juice.
It was just...long. I started around 2. And I think i went to bed around 2. So 12 straight hours? I remember a milkshake and frozen grapes.
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he only noticed i dyed my hair purple like halfway through sex and he looked really shocked and he just said "You look like Barney." as he came.
You told the bartender at least five times that you were naming your son "Jagermeister" but you would use the bartender's name "Fernando" as his middle name. You were drunk.
I just sugar scrubbed my vagina. If I don't get laid tonight, me and the universe are gonna have some problems.
Like not to be gross, he was eating me out while I was smoking a bowl. It was like a rap video
I made a nest in his bed. I'm not leaving
It's days like today that make me happy I'm not a porn star.