Yeah, it wasn't as bad as I thought. I tried not to clench and things went pretty smoothly.
Apparently at one point I was wearing my sweatshirt backwards like it was normal and then I threw up into the hood. Never drinking again.
So pretty much, I was trying to piece last night together and remembered a point where I was pointing to you heart then touching your face. I'm not sure that I ever translated that to "I like your personality better than your looks" but that's what I meant
I was eating out this girl yesterday and when I finished, she asked me if I wanted to take any home with me. She was serious, dude!
What does that even mean?
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It was all about her orgasm last night. I felt like a human dildo.
I found a wheel chair. there is now a high chance im going to be fired from this job
I'm gonna cougar town the shit out of that prom.
Passing out is my livers way of protecting my mind.
Does taking an old homeless guy to the strip club, buying him lap dances, and calling him pops all night count as a good deed???
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I'm like an air traffic controller of women. It's a very similar job. Well spaced and gentle landings are good. When they meet, it's bad. Explosions bad. Dying screaming burning children bad.
Okay, I just reached peak living alone
I ate a piece of chocolate cake while jerking off
I just want orgasms and emotional validation. Is that too much to ask?
I have no idea, I usually just project my awkwardness out like a mating call until it draws other awkward members of the opposite sex out from the bushes
No. No. Fuck you! You can do your own grocery shopping.
Now I know Sunday Funday means fucking till you loose your voice.
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