What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
Where you at
assisting at a photo shoot in williamsburg till 7ish. wassup?
Doesn't matter. I already jerked off in your bed.
Wow, this guy is harder to get rid of than gum in pubic hair
sorry about calling you the devil all night.
That was a $3000 rug we rolled him down the hill in.
Monday: I just need a drink Tuesday: OMG no more this week! Wednesday: oh shit how'd I get drunk Thursday: I'm glad you've stopped the pretenses
Let me put it this way - if I had a list of things I would like between my legs, she would rank below the cello I turned into firewood sophomore year.
Woke up shivering behind the titty bar, With the worst leg cramps. I'm like a poster boy for responsibility.
Before I left he insisted on serenading me with a ukalele. I might be a little bit in love
I told my grandmother all I want is a nice guy who likes to be tied up.
He's nice to look at and knows the difference between your and you're. I win.
Then again I went over his house after not hanging out since kindergarten and tried to fuck him so maybe I'm partially to blame here
This feels more like a conference of all the people I've fucked in the past year.
Of course he's seen my tits, I wave those things around like a trump supporter does an American flag
No my problem is I'm working and its a beautiful Saturday. I should be recovering from a hangover and out golfing. Fuck responsibility. I miss college.
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