I really like him. That's why I'm having sex with someone else, so he doesnt think i'm a slut.
My entire life is one complicated drinking game
I thought it went well, but he just sent me a video of me sucking an icicle on the fire escape of his building with the caption "The ice got more than I did." Somehow I feel like I owe him a blowjob.
YES. YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE SEX WITH ME WHILE I SING LES MIS.
C'mon. I'm still an alcoholic at heart, regardless of its broken or not
Dude we both faced 40s of steel reserve which is like saying, "Hey, I'm a complete piece of shit!"
In the mean time, I'll continue to kick ass at running and become a successful stripper while he might hook up with one average looking girl he met at a club. I so win.
So I fucked him. Then I MC Hammer'd to the bathroom, where I did the robot in celebration of my accomplishment. And then I spent 10 mins fixing my toilet. But YOLO.
Our motto for the night: BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT.
That's our motto every night.
So last night was the first of "I got cut off before I walked in the bar".
Margaritas just taste better when they're bigger than your head
The sex was so good I feel like I could run a triathlon, hit big at the casino, and defeat ISIS.
I wanted one last NYC adventure and I got it. Now I just have to figure out a polite way to wake up the pantless former stripper illegal Russian immigrant street violinist chick currently in a vodka coma in my bed.
I need an outfit for the bar tmrw that reads I have daddy issues and would like a fancy sugar daddy.
It's OK, I woke up in a drag queen's bed last weekend. It took me forever to get the glitter out of my cleavage.
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