Walk of shame was bad enough, but farting with each step as I walked past his roommates was just not cosmically fair.
And then I have a slight inkling that I went up to the bar and tried to order the bartender.
I've gone to the bathroom 3 times. And forgot to pee. 3 times. Let's say we call it a night, I need to be found. I see a fish tank by the bar and some stairs.
Tipped our cab with a photo booth pic of us, a paper dollar, a dollar in quarters, a crest white strip. And a tanning pass valid in boston
Why is your name written on my hand surrounded by hearts and a bartenders phone number?
Ps you missed quite a show. I was for some reason whipping my hair back and forth and head butted the tip jar. It shattered and now I have a circular bruise on my forehead. All the bartenders hit the floor to get all the quarters.
I am sufficiently unimpressed with the options available to my freshly shaved self tonight.
I didn't know where we were going to start fucking, so I just strategically hid condoms all over the house before he came over.
I lost a whole day of my life. Apparemtly I was using my deodrant as a phone. And is my phone there?
You told me that you were mad me because I wouldn't let you 'explore my castle'. Then you said I smelled like a hospital and passed out.
He held the kayak still so I wouldn't tip over while projectile vomiting. If that ain't true love, I don't know what is...
I swear going to your house is like going to a strip club, no matter what happens I get glitter on me.
I think all three of us just need to suck it up and go to lunch with him to keep our bar tab down
He sent me a dick pic. I am fighting the urge to send him a "sorry for your loss" card.
Congratulations on giving me my first and second hickeys last night. I made it almost 30 years without one, but who needs class these days?
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