I'm in a strip club that reminds me of a crack house from the 80's.
My underwear smells like fireworks.
Me + Nice restaurant + Copious amounts of booze + obscene comments to couples = valentine's day plans
Update: I just puked into a sock. It was the only thing available at the time. Why I happened to be holding a sock, we may never know.
the guy in the stall next to me, came in, farted, laughed, and proceeded to give himself some sort of hillbilly pep talk that included the phrase "big pussy".
Ugh he's texting me.
Tell him you're no longer interested in what he has to offer; his shitty personality outweighs his sexual prowess.
I apologize for violently hooking up with her in front of you in the jacuzzi last night.
We had three bowls going. It was a tri-bowl tournament. Harry potter shit.
These pissing matches have to stop. They led to last night's scotch through the nose shots. I'll never smell again.
I need to get a job that holds me accountable for something. Otherwise I wake upon Monday wondering when the booze store opens and if I still have a boyfriend.
We started off talking about nice cuddling and you turned it into fucking with a Santa hat on...
Oh you know, the usual. We had a good date, I took her back home, she took off my pants, laughed, and left.
Ok thats great. so just to recap: you fucked a billionare in his penthouse last night, and I had a glass of wine on the toilet.
he just got here with a handle of tequila and box of condoms. looks like i'll be spending the weekend in bed
the sex got boring after the first three hours
holy shit
Randomize
