You know it's time to leave Spain when you are back and forth between Skype and a Spanish dictionary trying to figure out out to say "I can still smell you on my skin."
not my fault. i got her to believe he wrote an oasis song. he still managed to find a way to make sure no girl ever gets near his penis.
me and this guy in my office just exchanged an "i saw you at a drag show last night" look as he passed by my desk.
he's dressed up as pikachu 3 fucking years in a row and gotten laid each time. i don't understand
My catholic guilt is strong, but the alcohol is stronger.
Do what? I was just saying that at some point there's a chance I'll have a boner. Think of it like a guessing game. "Does he have one now?"
You asked me if you had to go downstairs to get upstairs. And then you forgot where you were.
How do I go about messaging a girl on a dating site whose little sister I've had a three some with...?
Be my booze princess bebe. I'll rescue you from the lame tidings you are confined to up in the sober castle.
Probably won't be invited back there again considering last time his purebred corgi ate my pot brownie and had to be rushed to the hospital.
You continued to run around saying "free the nipple" while "taste testing" every liquor on the premises.
He just texted me a video of him jerking off. He must really be looking forward to the Super Bowl.
You have to commit to sexting. You can't just quit right after I send you pictures of my asshole.
Seriously, come on.
I feel like there's a picture of my ass on the internet right now.
I hate you.
I just used a coke ridden $20 bill to buy Girl Scout cookies
The cat hopped on my bed and watched me masturbate naked with a vibrator. I've never felt more sorry in my entire life
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