Raging hang over. 6AM finish. Shat on a bag of trash in an alley. D L that last bit.
The bar is so dead the tender gave us free shots for staying. They mixed 2pac and phil collins. That's worth at least three shots.
I'm timing the release of my poops to the sound of the machine gun from the video game he's playing in the living room.
Busta Rhymes just yelled at me! He cut a song off and I was clapping and he looked right at me and said "don't fucking clap." I was that white guy.
You don't have to be emotionally available for a blow job.
Even when three police cars surrounded us you kept telling us not to worry because 'only good things can happen'.
I give him a gold star every time I orgasm. His room looks like he's freaking King Midas.
Ok, was I really fucked up or was there a chick from Norway in the ice cream shop teaching us Norwegian last night?
Have u seen my thong? Last time i saw it was drenched in vodka and on his brothers broken lamp.
Nah but tell him his boxers made it to the basement
You were my sober police. You had one job and you failed miserably.
I'm a corrupt cop.
We dug deep emotionally while eating cereal
No more weed for you
the cops are being surprisingly chill about david hanging from a tree with no pants.
Literally I can feel my heart beat in my vagina because of how sore I am
And on a positive note i found a list that i made in 3rd grade titled "what to do if you want a guy to like you"
I am going to constantly be reminded of you for the next couple of days because of how sore my vagina is. It's just the price I have to pay.
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