Hold on, I gotta pump breast milk for the white russians.
Need. Hospital. Physically am floating.
Just walked into the bar to find a guy in a Boba Fett helmet leaning casually against the wall, texting. This night just got real.
My period started right as he was entering, which really helped me sell the "I've never done this before" bit.
You know you're sufficiently drunk when the 411 dude just says, "Fuck it! I'll Google that shit for you, what movie do you want to see?" and proceeds to give you showtimes for 3 different theatres.
It was like something out of a fucked up fairy tale. He just crowdsurfed over to her while riding a keg, said "come sail with me", and then the crowd carried them off into the night. What.
Is it bad that I've been making new friends through your vagina networking? I don't think so
I dealt with the imported moonshine, but when the cocaine came out, I had to get the fuck out of there
I wasn't going to just ask my parents for a damn vibrator for christmas
I have need of you to return home with haste, as I require the magical capsules you possess to relieve the posterior pain I am living. I battle this demon with stubborn grit, however I feel that defeat is on the horizon.
I swear to god if you settle for a trump supporting packers fan, I will not acknowledge your children. You're better than that.
On a brighter more disgusting note...... I think I just shart myself but I'm too afraid to find out.
Only true party girls take their birth control with Smirnoff.
Maybe the "i killed someone" and "tequila makes my clothes come off" comments freaked him out.
Are you still passed out in my back seat, or do I need to come find you?
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