I'm about two and a half drinks away from gay.
I'm coming over.
I feel like I bought a front row ticket to watch her screw up her life
She made me put my jeans under her mattress so that I wouldn't leave in the morning while she was still sleeping. Apparently I just look like "that guy".
Nothing says "This dudes gotta go" better than a boner on your back waking you @ 5 in the morning
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I told her I'd give her some of the cream I was using so she didn't get my warts. That's when I realized I was too drunk.
So help me Jesus we're never drinking together again. But weekends don't count. Amen.
I found my phone outside under the leaves by the curb. What the fuck did I do last night
I'm staying in tonight, it's my Christmas present to my liver.
I definitely pole-danced a parking meter outside a party last night. The cheering was appreciated.
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The last thing I remember is him yelling from across the room "WE FINISHED THE HANDLE!"
It was 11pm.
Well, he asked what my sign was, then proceeded to critique me on my beer pong stance... I really need to raise my standards.
He legit watched "Cops" the entire time he was fingering me.
I feel like it should at least be like a "hey look I'm actually fine that I drunkenly gave you my virginity!" friend request.
The thing I'm gonna miss about him is his dick.
Did anyone see us fucking last night on the giant turtle outside downtown Disney?
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