I just hope my dad was drunk enough to not remember the whole convo we had about anal.
He looks too sensitive, like he's going to write me a poem and cry after the first time we have sex.
just took a cab, driver just asked what i'd been drinking- i said vodka, he said "can't do vodka-drunk, it makes me feel like i'm giving birth to myself" ...no comment
just jacked off in the bed i was conceived in.
Woke up in an unfamiliar basement in a sleeping bag with Matt to a police officer shining his flashlight in my eyes and asking me my birth date and social security number. My morning went swimmingly.
still doesn't change the fact you were dunking your sock in the toilet.
He's my palate cleanser. He's my mint sorbet. He's my saltine cracker. He's who I fuck between people to make the next one better.
They put me in charge of something. Why the fuck would you look at me and put me in charge of something while i'm double fisting peach mimosas at a baby shower
...oh my god that's like anal suicide
I'm aware. I'm writing the eulogy for my colon as we speak.
Also, you peed on your hand last night. Id just like to point that out
Of course the bar would go completely silent right as I yell out "I don't have AIDS"
I wore sunglasses to take a shower. I might be hungover.
Let us rub each other in fish scales and become mermaids
Apparently i disappeared and no one found me until the morning , but i have fifty missed calls
He stopped the gas pump at 69 and gave me my receipt. He wants it.
Randomize
