in the event that i am dead, my body is laying in the intersection of ... the pearl in springfield. it was my friend's 21st but i think i'm dead. wearing a black top. like i said, probably dead.
don't worry. When rigor sets in, we'll make sure to get you laid one last time.
and this is why i am such an inspirational person, i am the Joel Osteen of alcoholics.
better yet, through the bookshelves. like an intellectual glory hole
Day 3. Will have to postpone job hunting by a month. May have blown out my knee. Was sunburned on Friday. Now look painted red. Still alive. All worth it.
all i asked was if it was all the way in, and now im laying here alone. sensitive guys fucking suck
let's just say I never want to get pulled over and have to explain to the cop why I'm wearing a false beard again.
iphones do not disturb setting is the biggest cock block to my 3am booty calls
I hooked up with a guy dressed as Justin Timberlake, while dressed as Britney Spears. Fuck Jessica Biel, all my 90's dreams are coming true.
How do you say happy birthday to someone you fuck occasionally that almost got you arrested? Like what do I text.
It's getting harder and harder to fake orgasms as I get older.
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
I want to have sex with Will Smith. I guess I have a thing with 90s sitcom stars. Stamos, Joey Lawrence, John Goodman.
Yeah. We had phone sex then cried together, it was beautiful and heartbreaking
Put down the Captain Crunch and get over here. It’s a dickfest!!
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