So, how was the dinner
Just like the ex wife, cold, fatty, and expensive.
It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
Everyone just saw your hickey on TV and on the jumbotron at the hockey game.
Thanks dad.
The pick up line I used was "Grab my sack, you'll be back." Then I winked at her.
I remember convincing the limo driver to smoke with us and if he did I would name my first son after him.
In the middle of having sex, she said "if we continue, we're dating." I then pulled out and sat in the corner, naked. I deserve a Medal of Honor.
I want to get my vag crammed with complete loss of every bit of dignity I have left by this man from every angle on every flat surface that exists. That is all.
The realization of how permanent those tattoos really were set in this morning... I am SO sorry.
I should know better than to trust a man I've seen cry on multiple occasions to give me accurate sports information.
I round house kicked her emotions in the face
Almost to my house to grab beer. And pants.
I had to write an apology letter to my roomate for hotboxing in our bathroom. What a bitch.
You don't know what lonely is until you've came in an Arby's Napkin
You told the bartender at least five times that you were naming your son "Jagermeister" but you would use the bartender's name "Fernando" as his middle name. You were drunk.
You ran the halls of the dorm naked handing out condoms. You were the sex fairy. Best you can do if you're not getting laid.
Randomize
