I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
my mothers day present is going to be not puking at the table during brunch
well you decided to make everyone "drinks" which was sprite and beer mixed.
The druken crowd just broke into singing "God Bless America" while waiting the newlyweds to get in the limo. My friend is eating rose petals.
Hey, I can't find my bed frame. Do you know who took it?
Are you asking me on a date where we get shithoused and do some fingerpainting?
I just want to point out that nothing makes my hickie/hangover more obvious than sleeping in a scarf and sunglasses. nothing.
After he came all he could say was how great the lighting fixtures where in my apartment.
I want to apologize but I don't know how. Do I just say "sorry for OD'ing on your couch"? I think that just sounds weird.
Would a ten year old streaker be inappropriate?
That's the stuff legends are made of
dude when I get home wanna help me fulfill my dream of smoking a bowl out of my saxophone?
He is like the "hometown sweetheart", but a huge freak. Like "I'll come change your flat tire"....but then fuck you like an animal in the back seat.
Like a gentleman I waited until you were done vomming to start my Big Mac.
Because cocaine and lesbian hookups on a Tuesday cannot be the new normal
Tomorrow night, I am putting you In my trunk. No excuses we have waited forever for this.
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