He said I taste like butterscotch, licked me, then I'm pretty sure he wet his pants. So no, I do not want to invite him over.
I can't wait until next week, when I find out what drunk me added to the Netflix queue.
Found a cheerleading trophy in my shower this morning. Explain.
HE KEEPS WALKING AWAY. IT'S LIKE HE DOESN'T EVEN LIKE FRIES. WTF.
Dude their dog does tricks for sips of beer. He keeps going up next to people and trying to shake. This is awesome.
Hovering on the line between her being fuckable and me being too drunk to fuck. Life's juggling act in progress here.
As for the 14 hours of vodka. I am all that is man.
I made people serenade her before talking to her and went on a condom run. If I'm going to be in the friend zone, I'm going to be its fucking king.
If by "Are you drunk?" you mean "Did you just faceplant in the checkout line at Target?" the answer is yes.
He licked my mouth. I felt like I was making out with my dog.
I got stoned and explored ice caves with a guy who photographs dildos for a living. I win.
I got laid two nights in a row
And none for Gretchen Wieners...
BOOOOOOOOOOOO *takes away your hoe card*
My New Year's resolution consists of less weekday hangovers, more sex, and more money.
lord you gonna make me abandon my soup for tasteful catboy nudes
Randomize
