i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
If Curt Schilling could pitch a game with that blood-filled sock... if Tiger Woods won the 2008 US Open with a torn ligament, then I'd be an embarrassment to the human race if I couldn't manage to at least jerk him off even if I was still crying after he put it in my butt.
she was talking to me but i could help but stare at the extremely long hairs on her boobs. then she says, "your looking at the hair on my boobs aren't you"
What can I say, I'm a giver.
Smoking up the homeless at 3am does not make you a humanitarian.
last night he took my thong off with his teeth... god bless champagne
He wanted to feed hamburgers to the homeless... as a first date... who the fuck is this kid
Im pretty sure by the fifth subway ride after going in circles the four times prior, we all just accepted that we werent making the concert and should instead enjoy our magical weed and tequila laced journey.
In his defense he just bought a bong like a week ago so he's still in that honeymoon phase.
No. I'm laying on the floor naked. I almost made it to the shower
This could be the definition of living by yourself
The universe is cradling this hangover like a gay couple cradles their newly adopted chinese baby.
We're like adult pinky and the brain when they decided that taking over the world is unrealistic so they aim lower by trying to get drunk every day.
I think I sold my soul to a dominatrix last night.
So when did "Are you okay?" translate into "Don't tell me you got fucked by another rando after another rager"?
I just need to find someone whose kink is financial submission.
he's the kind of guy you give a fake number to and he still finds out your real number anyway...
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