Text. Mid BJ. 8 points.
I woke up this morning with my shirt on upside down.
You mean inside out.
No, upside down. I ripped the neck hole in the process of getting it around my waist.
He was a bulldog and my face was like rare meat. Never again with the drunken ones.
his blanket is still in the back seat of my car, its like a constant reminder of his small penis
Lame. Party is tapping out at 4am. Even chanting "USA" didn't rally them.
Other than a hickey from some random Canadian roller derby girl, I came out unscathed
From scraping the remnants from a coke bag at a lingerie party to meeting with an 80 year old man to discuss civil rights all in under 12 hours bizarrely feels like the epitome of my life
it was like vegas minus all of the penis and death threats
Highlight of the night was you walking into the men's room yelling "My husband is diabetic" and crawling under the stall to yell at me.
He's upstairs shouting 'FUCK OFF I'M IN MY MOTHERFUCKING ZEN ZONE' out of the window.
I need to puke. I need a shower. I need rehab. I need to detox and puke. I feel like demons are inside of me.
I'm pretty sure the guy on the dance floor with crutches just smacked me in the butt with one. Do you think he's flirting?
Is it bad I use my AA meeting to hookup with guys?
You wouldnt listen to us when we told you there was no place that was selling girlscout cookies at 4:30am...
Remind me to do laundry tomorrow so i have something decent to take off when i get laid.
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