And I was somehow convinced to wash the glassware at the bar topless.
The night started going down hill when she shot the cashier in the face with the confetti gun we bought at 711.
there was a trail of blood coming out of one of the bathroom stalls. thought of you
Clusterfucked is a frowned upon word in work related emails
My penis has a 100% approval rating. He has never received a formal complaint. If you'd like to file one, you can go fuck yourself.
I just puked so hard I pissed myself. Outta my ass. I just won hangover of the century.
Me too. We could do it like prostitutes. No kissing on the mouth.
Holy shit, Uber is testing a service to summon an ice cream truck.
Bring me the penis of the founder so I may endlessly fellate him. Or cunnalinge. I don't discriminate.
Of course not. I'd be offended if you didn't bring my boobs into casual conversation.
I think I broke my hip playing drunk ping pong
Haha! You know I mean that in a positive way. Like, "let them eat cake!" Or in our case, "let them achieve obesity from the two entree plate at Panda Express!"
I will go to bed dreaming of sexy Olympians carting me on a throne to the beach where they feed me pizza and champaign and massage my head/wash it like the hair dresser does.
he's so hot I'd consider breaking the whole, "till death do us part," agreement he's currently in
im bringing home some absinth and some holy water. one way or another things are going to get spiritual.
I'm a history major and he's the descendant of TWO presidents. Did you really think I wasn't going to sleep with him?
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