some girl had on jean underwear. i hate america.
On your way out, lock the front door. And by lock the front door, I mean find the door handle, reattach it, and then lock it.
Im blasting "Fat Bottom Girls" as loud as humanely possible in attempts that old ladies doing water aerobics will take the hint and get the fuck out of the pool.
Where is my rescue team. I keep hiding shit. And I'm trying to give out shots of olive oil
in case you blackout.. this is confirmation that yes, you were sitting spread eagle on the kitchen floor chugging pickle juice out of the jar.
DR UNK TOWN USA
TEAM USA GO AMERICA
But the drunk streaking fizzled when one of jake's friends took a piss while running with a massive erection.
No memories of receiving this. Or of getting home. Or of apparently developing a taste for marmalade, which I assume is yours because I have literally never eaten it before. It's all over the kitchen. And my phone. And in my hair. Oh god I wish I wasn't on the train to work. X And sorry about the kitchen x
Bro. I traded my coat. I have a Raiders coat now.
You have the perkiest tits in all of North America. You're fine.
Remind me to tell you about how I hit a tree with my car last night.
I'll be glad to.
You're an adult now and it's your vagina. You should do what it or you wants.
for future reference, singing eye of the tiger outside my door while i am having sex makes me incredibly uncomfortable
apparently not uncomfortable enough for you to stop
Holy. shit. Chris has no pants on. In public. Fuck. Need you.
she prefaced telling me she was pregnant with "houston, we have a problem"
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