and that's how I found out my dad doesn't believe in towels... holiday magic.
Now he's talking about how he's writing in a journal because he doesn't remember "his thought patterns when he was in elementary and that's distressing". I'm walking home. Fuck this.
I don't make the first move. Ever. Unless were playing monopoly cause that's my shit
We gotta make a movie eventually. All good, long-lasting relationships include a homemade porno
there's nothing like the elf drinking game to get me in the christmas spirit.
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
your drunk ass trust falled a guy double fisting bud limes and as a result your head bounced off the patio table. So that might explain the stitches on the back of your head.
The walls are thin & apartments are narrow so all the bedrooms are next to each other. Our complex could compete in synchronized orgasms.
Running across campus through Hurricane Sandy while hammered and in a slutty cowgirl costume obviously should be top priority tonight
"DO YOU LIKE FLYING KITES" WORKED AS A PICKUP LINE. SUCK IT.
Props to the guy blatantly doing coke in the bathroom at the bar. Walked out of the stall with a credit card in hand, sniffing loudly and shouting "choo choo"
I drunkenly texted ur dad last night telling him he raised great kids hahahahaha
...Just this whole adulting thing gets in the way of mermaid drag shows at lesbian bars.
I can't. I mean he's hot, but there's really nothing else there
You just said he's hot
NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND
I experienced pure joy just moments ago when I looked down and saw that I had another pop tart to consume down my mouth hole.
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