You really coming over, don't trick.
we got back to my place and he started talking about feelings. i politely told him to leave and that he managed to cock block himself.
he couldn't find his key, so we just had sex on his parent's porch while we waited for his mom to get home.
This is the way my sobriety ends: Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
i love you. like a brother. a brother that i had sex with more than once.
Our brains have an emergency blowjob override switch. You saw proof tonight.
I'm doing lines by myself in the kitchen. I think your outside. yeah that's you. your naked.
Are you also wondering how we get home after the party bus?
Home?
She's all pretty and bubbly and nice and I'm sitting here stoned looking like Lucifer.
Cut a hole in the crotch of my onesie so we could have sex without me getting cold. Best decision of my life.
The words "me," "sober," and "new years eve" do not go together. Ever.
All I know is when I checked my phone this morning google translate was open with "help the cow ate my robot" translated to French
"I'm pretty sure all our toasts were to Ben Afflecks penis last night."
The condoms have been found. I repeat: THE CONDOMS HAVE BEEN FOUND. he isn't a collector!!!
I'm glad that we laid to rest the suspicion that he was keeping them in a scrapbook. yayy
Rationing the toilet paper. Only one wipe allowed. I'm scared to move too much.
Randomize
