I hate having morals and standards the next morning.
I hate to tell you this, but your sister reeks of whore.
I literally had to tap out of the blow job. It was like a pornographic wrestling match
in my drunkeness I still was able to plan for the morning. I duck taped my keys, a water bottle full of mimosa and my cell phone to the front door.
I just couldn't load the family groceries on to the same seat where I had sex 12 hours ago.
pretty sure the dicks i sucked were punishment enough
I just remembered something. Did we really all flash the cab driver to get half off?
I almost tried texting you with my pipe. Holy fuck this is good shit.
FYI your bra is now hanging in the hallway as a trophy.
We created a neighborhood watchdog drinking game
Stop calling dibs on everything with a vagina you jackass.
That should be the title of my autobiography.
There's not really an emoticon that says "I'm sorry I honked your boobs, and that you weren't a fan of that."
We need to step in, this can't continue. The guy she went home with last night looked exactly like Count Olaf, right down to the unibrow.
Which version tho, Jim Carrey or Neil Patrick Harris?
THAT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER, YOU DON'T FUCK COUNT OLAF!!!
One three hour marathon fuck session and now she's divorcing her husband. Should I get business cards made?
Every time I look at him 'Relax' by Frankie Goes to Hollywood plays in my head. Is that weird?
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