He was streaking. We were hammered. We had roman candles. It only made sense to shoot them at him.
He let me keep his flannel as a "good job" for the great head I gave him.
You said "i miss him" not "i miss his dick." You're getting emotionally attatched. Shame.
woke up with the bag of wine duct taped to my shoulder.
I just found our entire wall-to-wall from September 2006 printed out and clipped... it's 49 pages. Blackout me is so considerate of bored-at-work me
I found a phone book at the party and started calling everyone with my last name asking if they wanted to form a club. I'm meeting one for brunch tomorrow...
Brian got his first ever blow job last night. We should make him a scrapbook.
Unintentional and slightly frustrating adventures are basically all I'm good for. Expect heart palpitations, cheap food, and homeless men serenading us.
I'm dressed as a caveman and drunk so that's not really an option
your life is not complete until you watch a gaggle of murderous clowns dance to gangnam style.
also, what is the correct term for a shit ton of clowns?
Yeeeaahhh, I'm in no rush to dismiss a level 6 booty-call that pays my bar tabs and understands my Harry Potter obsession.
I'm in the ER bruh, I went skinny dipping last night and a cat fish bit my dick.
Not gonna lie, Wednesday was the perfect day to get laid off, all I've done since is watch the Simpsons marathon
she was puking nonstop out of the car window in the rain during our hour long drive back, we got lot of honks
I got the beer and the first aid kit. You get the tequila and burn cream. We should be set for the camping trip.
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