He cooked the food on a paper plate in the oven.
She was so happy she found her sunglasses, that she blew me. Im now randomly hiding things of hers in hopes she'll find them and I'll get a repeat performance.
I feel like tequila heightens the sense of my nipples.
I made out with Jen. We were naked. I'm still gay. Forever
Just sponge bathed with a swissper. Thrush inevitable. Shaking.
It's tuesday, which means cocktails followed by cocktales.
I think I'm coming down now. I almost started crying because I lost a piece of paper.
The cab driver thought we were passed out so he called a sexline...
She looks like if Peter Griffin was a lesbian.
Run away.
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
There's a very drunk Asian strawberry shortcake crying on the curb next to my truck. I'm not really sure what standard protocol is for this situation.
He was on my bed looking at me like a sacrifice to the gods of gay sex and he's definitely a bottom. Like Jesus Christ a really, really great ass of a bottom.
He made a playlist to use during sex...that ended with The Ultimate Warrior's entrance music.
Last night a drunk chick tried to lick me. If you are trying to lick the zombies, you are too drunk for the haunted house.
Remember when I convinced you to watch me eat my sandwich just so you could reuse my plate and save us money on our water bill? I'm so ecofriendly when I'm high
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