His dick was so small it sat perched on top of his balls like it was king of his scrotum.
This martini tastes like the bartender stirred it with his foreskin.
I just woke up with the words DO IT on my hand and six beers in my purse.
you walked into the kitchen holding the skyy bottle and asked us "how do i warm this?"
He says he's "masters drunk." And if that's anything like "kentucky derby drunk" I know enough to not go over there.
i'm on the subway and being revisted by the ghosts of tequilas past.
so i say "rick dont build that sandcastle" and he "says ok i wont" then i wake up and its sandcastle fucking city all over my apartment
Hey, I can't find my bed frame. Do you know who took it?
My vagina senses are tingling. I know your here.
Long story short, the rash from your last birthday party told me not to go to this one.
He was hiding behind my bedroom door. at noon. Wearing a t shirt. And a condom. Not attractive.
You had a fry stuck to your face... Every five mins you would wake up, take a bite, put it back then fall asleep again...
What's the tour de bar? Is that a thing, or is it just what you call Saturdays?
To be fair, this is a tequila-while-rewatching-Benedict-Cumberbatch-as-Van-Gogh idea, so I don't know if it will hold up tomorrow.
Omg the sex was so good my ears popped. Thank god too. Cause then I didn't have to hear him going on and on about his dumbass feelings. It's called a booty call bitch.
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