We just saw a waitress walk by with a tray of bacardi and whipped cream.
Whoever ordered that deserves a pat on the back and the "classiest customer" award
I feel like people whose favorite movie is Donnie Darko should not be allowed to talk. Ever.
I'm doing a half mile walk of shame carrying a trash bag and still very drunk. Save me. I feel like a refugee.
I'm relatively certain my chiropractor just judged me for admitting that my back is misaligned from the sex we had last night...
I couldn't accept the bj. My penis has done nothing wrong and didn't deserve the punishment of her face.
She fell asleep on the sidewalk and people starting using her as a hurdle
someday when you wake up in a dumpster we'll have to have this conversation again...
Remember that time we became friends because I shotgunned a Tall Boy in your bathroom?
Those memories are both hazy and awesome.
He had a shameless baby voice when he was talking to my dog. There's no way I'm making it through the night with my clothes on.
when i saw his roomate the next night he kept openly referring to me as "the girl who orgasms loud" when he would try to get my attention
No I got myself stoned. With her bowl. She was just a casualty of the War on Sobriety.
If my bootycall doesn't bring over a Baconnator, I swear to fucking God, I'm not letting him in. The hunger is that real. Forget his Persian dick.
I slapped him but he didn't wake up. He just nuzzled my head, hugged me closer, and smiled.
...I just added shower water to my vodka on ice\n#sendhelp
beach body workouts will consist of dancing and cocaine, and sugar free redbull
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