Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
she danced around my room naked waving around the gold trojan magnum condoms singing "i have the golden ticket."
little did she know i was taping her the whole time.
I swear it's like I have a jerk off quota I have to meet each week. If I miss three days I have a wet dream and it's like a wasted jizz, and it gets everywhereeeeeee.
do you think having her use a clorox disinfecting wipe on her vagina will keep me from getting her herpes if I don't have a condom?
It's one of the many facets of my drunken alter egos. I'm like substance abuse batman.
he kept saying that we were in ian's fun time place and then continued to act like a dinosaur.
Where the royal fuck are you??
The depths of vodka hell.
She's drunk as hell locked up I. The bathroom with my shoes where do I go from here
I ate you ate to the whole david gray album
Dying on my bathroom floor at 7 am, I would rather be eaten by a shark right now
I'm not winning any crowns in the Miss Emotionally Stable pageant either...
he just fucked me for my cheese..
Bro, I live in a constant state of existential dread and moderate ennui. The prospect of cosmic horror doesn’t faze me that much.
Maybe for you. You don't have to clean the melted butter off the stove. I LOST THE SPECIAL SEASONINGS.
I should have robbed the cradle years ago. Turns out 21 year old boys can cum and still fuck me silly a minute later. My vagina feels like it just won a car from Oprah!
Randomize
