Hello rock bottom. My name is Jared. Nice to meet you.
which gay bar do you need a ride home from?
so it turns out that "condoms galore" does, indeed, come up on your bank statement
When she e-mailed me back asking for proof, complete with hospital intake records, I just told her it was a home-birth. I'm prepared to take the fail.
No, you don't understand. If the words "stop," "alcohol poisoning," and "regret" aren't in the same sentence by the end of the night, I will have failed this birthday.
I knew it would be an interesting night when he showed up at my house on a scooter wearing a six foot american flag as a cape.
Nothing like cleaning dried puke off your floor to make you feel like you've failed as an adult.
Is this one of those "if you didnt give such good head we couldn't be friends" moments?
We proceeded to buy tattoos from the dollar store and interpretive dance to of monsters and men, it's safe to say he's my new fuck buddy
I want to be stormed in. I want to be stuck there. I want to climb a pyramid of strippers to safety
Got laid in my rudolph onesie for the second year in a row. New tradition? Absolutely.
A particularly funny moment you may have missed; you walked in to the basement to announce that whoever was cooking sausages had left them on the grill for Hella long, only to be told that you were in fact the person grilling. At which point you just said, "the sausages are done" and walked out
Standing here wondering if its a good idea to cook pork chops in the toaster or not.
Do you think the firemen will remember me?
Yes. But you were sloppy, sobbing, and puked on two of them. You won't get in their pants.
One door closes, one man cooks for you through the next open door
Turns out he's just a recently divorced IT guy. Not a wizard.
Randomize
