I'm at some bar in brklyn... just made out with a guy named Owen.
He is a pre-school teacher... just sang me a song about weather.
i just had sex. the condom broke. we're sleeping in to separate beds. And im in albany
Dudes got a Polo tattoo. I don't care if he has a yacht I can't handle that level of gay.
I got an MIP via FUCKING HELICOPTER. Tuscaloosa police either have nothing to do or too many resources.
It's one of the many facets of my drunken alter egos. I'm like substance abuse batman.
I'm too hungover to crawl to the fridge so im eating the candy nipple tassels I got bought for Christmas
So I walk in and he's teaching someone in London via Skype how to roll a blunt. I have new found respect for him.
I'm not judging you. Just know that you could be Queen of The World. Instead you're 5:28 p.m ponging. I hope you're at least winning
On another note, I feel like my vagina is slowly being peeled off with a rusty potato peeler.
You started sleep walking, went to my closet, tried to pee on my boots, and when I asked you what you were doing you said "I'm talking to these people about jobs"
After sex he brought chocolates and said he loves RuPaul's Drag Race. How many points does he score for that?
Funny you say that, I just sold my stripper pole to my mom tonight...
I need to stop acting like a porn star that isn't getting paid
Why did my mother make you get naked?
You don't understand. This boy has the Mona Lisa of cocks.
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