FYI... At my funeral, it will be your job to throw yourself dramatically onto my casket.
its summer. and we all know college gfs do not count in summer.
college gfs dont count ever. theyre like getting corn rows in jamaica. you feel cool at the time. then you go home and people make fun of you.
If Andre Agassi did Crystal Meth, what was John McEnroe doing?
I fucked her on my hockey bag. it doesnt get any more Canadian than that.
If I don't end up being a booty call for Valentine's Day, you wanna go to the movies?
What's the address?
Too drunk. Just google it.
IT'S YOUR HOUSE
Okay I can't even be mad, I'm in mid-plot to hook up with Michael Phelp's third cousin.
We mailed him an 18 inch double headed dildo for his birthday. The Fedex guys certainly got a laugh out of it.
All I really remember is thinking that the music looked like beautiful lizard waves in my head
All I remember from the concert was leaving in an RV full of middle aged people playing circle of death
just tried to scoop ice cream with a steak knife. now in the emergency room with a the cab diver and the drag queen he picked up on the way. its gonna be a loooong day.
I'm not the one who gave a guy that lives next door to my grandmother a blowjob in a pub bathroom in Ireland, you have no room to judge.
I'm still drunk, my mom is throwing up, and there is a random Irish guy out getting our house breakfast right now. Wednesday's are my bitch.
Just had a small freak out because I couldn't get my bra unhooked and thought I was gonna be stuck in it forever.
Whoever thought of breakup sex is my new best friend
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