So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
Problem: At home sick with a stomach virus. Solution: smoke weed all day...
No, I think it was the night I threw up in her front yard. You're thinking of the time I threw up in her backyard.
He's coming back with me for the week. It took me saying "I don't wanna drive myself home... I'm better as a passenger giving road head" for him to jump at it. Rack another one up for my magical openings.
I feel like a blind man at a water park. Every step has the potential to be either fatal or lead to accidental, but totally enjoyable, sex.
I've wasted nicer days than this hungover and dry heaving in bed.
I pretty much landed into this relationship penis first
Welp just pooped in a garbage can. Guess I'm not better than you at life in any aspect.
I've known you for the past two years. You never kid about biology or alcohol.
It's always awkward in the office the day after your boss sends you a dick pic.
You came into my room and started rubbing a banana on your face.
Just want the two of you to know, I went to a golf tournament today. Respectable, expensive… Flipped the golf cart. Seriously, I'm 40. What the fuck?
After you finished the $300 bottle of wine you just started crying about how if Mulder and Scully didn't invite you to join the x-files your life would be meaningless because you "love that weird shit"
Xanax and full house Tuesday is now Percocet Sunday
so you might not believe this but he made a powerpoint. and gave you a 3.5/10.
Randomize
