He fucking owes me dinner after I gave him head under the deck behind the bar.
I caved and texted him. But it's strictly drug dealing business so it doesn't count.
You know you're deprived when the only thing you taste while chewing gum is the 2 grams of sugar alcohol.
According to the transitive property, he has now had dick in his mouth.
I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
My absolute favorite part of last night was after I puked in the ally, we rounded the corner and you screamed, "she's ok!" and everyone cheered
while she was riding me, she looked at me and said "this is why mom told me learning how to ride a horse would be important for my future"
Well, I found my bra. It's in my glove compartment with a half-eaten Snickers bar and a Jesus bookmark.
I FEEL like I celebrated someone's 21st, but really I just celebrated Tuesday.
Update: I may or may not be in a cult
Update #2: I may or may not be the leader of said cult
Mcnellies. I'm drunk enough that you have a window. Capitalize.
Just walked by a girl saying to her friend "honestly you coulda given me any dude and I woulda fucked him"
You should've introduced yourself
Update: just imagined being dirty talked to in an Irish brogue and I think my vagina became a sentient being.
He stopped me mid blowjob and asked me to take off my hat. He said it made him feel like Neil Young was going down on him.
so it turns out that when you ride the subway drunk at 5 am you wake up with a sailor in your bed
Randomize
