also referred to as T.P.S. (Toddler Penis Syndrome)
If it wasnt for meatballs I would have fucking killed myself already.
You litterally reached into some girls shirt, pulled out her tit and yelled whats up with this guy.
No, I'm never going to get a job bc I don't know anything about public relations except that Chris Crocker wants everyone to leave Britney alone.
Worst part of St. Paddy's...me drunkenly crying to a U2 cover band.
shes the only person ive ever met that could make "i don't swallow" sound sexy
She took a picture of me when she thought I was sleeping. I don't know whether to be amused or scared.
I've been alternating between telling people I was mauled by a bear or hit by a car to explain the massive unexplainable bruise on my leg. Slightly more worried now that the car idea is believable.
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
Ok fine. Wild. Free. Like a stallion set free in a beautiful meadow filled with flowers and sexy lady horses
after I lost so many games of beer pong they made me be a troll, I sat under the table and told riddles while retrieving balls.
So someone just pointed out to me that during dinner, I mentioned more women that I'm attracted to than men. The transition might be complete. I'm gay.
Fuck I am starving. I don't think I've eaten in the past two days.
You didnt need to. Gin is like eggs, its a perfectly nutrionally balanced meal.
My aunt left me alone with the instructions to "get waisted" by the time she returns. I love drunk aunt.
I tried to take a cute nude but sneezed halfway through. I sent it anyway
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