Probably should plan this out. Step one: grow stache. Two: get trenchcoat. Three: Kidnap Selena Gomez.
I had better be fucking involved with step four.
there is a priest convention in the hotel. i feel like god is laughing at me.
His mom walked into the kitchen smiling, made a scotch on the rocks, hit my bong, and told us goodnight enthusiastically. He's suddenly more appealing to me.
he started drinking at 9am with grey goose and pancakes. He IS my hero.
his finger was half off and he was more concerned that he wasnt at home shooting cucumbers out of his potato gun.
Serious question: when you had my right nipple in your mouth, did my nipple ring have both of the balls on it, or was it missing one. Current situation: missing one.
Two big black bouncers picked you up and escorted you to the elevator.
I didn't even do anything wrong. For all they knew I could have been on the US Olympic Gymnastic team. Would they kick Gabby Douglas out of a bar? I don't think so.
When i like your selfie it means one of two things. 1. thats a nice photo, friend. OR 2. I wanna bend you over a table. But youll never know.
It's like jay gatsby himself preordained that our genitals meet again.
He radiates elegant sexual dominance. I bet even his balls have pinstripes.
This is why I can't take dates to shows... I've literally made out with everyone in this band. And two of the guys in the crowd. And the bartender.
You came into the club around midnight with a carton of tropicana o.j. & said you were starting a revolution.
I just realized I had arrested my one night stand from last night...
It's totally a relationship. we have sex in other people's beds, watch mad men while high and get drunk on his teammates' beer. don't you dare stomp on my dreams with your societal judgments
Only good thing about being an essential worker is that I have a letter allowing me to cross the bridge into jersey to get booze
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