Go to petsmart and tell me if the dog trainer is the guy I slept with friday. Thanks.
She got stuck in the front door. She never told me how or why.
You bit the bartender when he refused to poor rum in your purse and hand you a straw.
You're getting a blowjob this afternoon. This has been your morning public service announcement.
Had "I should be in prison or dead" storytime at the bar. Found out James has done blow off a dead guy. Overwhelmed and speechless.
I had to drink a couple beers this morning so I could attend the keg race. Hangover had to dissipate or it wasn't happening.
Well, I made it thru a doorway, so I think things are going good.
You grabbed the hot guy that was making out with his girlfriend all night, slurred "I need to borrow this" then shoved your hand down his pants. All because you thought your ex walked into the bar. It was majestic in its shitshowness.
YOU HAVE PISSED AND FUCKED ON LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN MY HOUSE
Not everything, just a few things. And only a few times. The odds are really not all that bad when you break it down.
you’ve pissed every time you slept over. there’s no such thing as odds anymore. it’s guaranteed
My move is emasculating men with my superior intellect and it's not as charming when they can't see my huge rack.
I finally figured out how to tighten my bra straps and I feel like a god
You should come over tomorrow. Wine, pizza and my vagina. Those are all great things.
When I go to hand him the blunt and he's eating a cookie and responds with "let me hit this cookie"
Last thing I remember at your house last night is your dad leaning on the beer pong table and saying "you guys can fucking party"
I think it stinks she’s cheating on him. My vagina on the other hand is tingly thinking about a summer of sexual healing
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