my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
Dry humping a girl for an hour and then jizzing in your pants doesn't count as losing it.
neither the pictures you took nor my hangover explain why there are skittles in my shoe
nothing cures the holiday blues like an open bar
Found her with a stray dog now called champagne, crying about how she feels a mom now. Had to take her home. The dog too.
And then you'll find yourself a hot chick and leave me behind with nothing but my back fat to keep me company.
As I was brushing his cum out of my hair he looks at me and says "it happens to me all the time."
Also I'm sitting home alone with a big ass bowl of marshmallows right now just eating. It's so sad.
Last thing I remember clearly was, "ok, but if we're are gonna get drunk before class, there's no half-doing this"
You can't text people with drinkers' regret at 8 in the morning. It's just bad form.
While randomly hooking up with my neighbor last night he says "it's okay we're neighbors".
I sang Seal's Kiss From a Rose to my quesadilla
Just to clear things up, yes you did lick the strippers butt
Santi's no longer allowed to buy booze in my lane. Last thing I need is a midlife crisis looking at his Id again.
that's the second time my extensive knowledge of taylor swift has gotten me laid
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