He was telling me how the song fireflies makes him feel like he can talk to animals
I woke up with a crunchy, pink Pepto streak through my hair, no recollection of the last 6 hours of my night and the feeling that all the hotel's staff knew me on a first name basis.
The goblet must only be used for good. And vodka. And anything t-pain would be proud of.
he was definitely TRYING to give me herpes.
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
I pretty much landed into this relationship penis first
I opened my eyes this morning, looked at the sunlight and made this hangover my bitch.
It wasn't a basement apartment, it's his parents basement. And he wanted to show me his pet tarantula collection. I NOPED THE FUCK OUT!
I also slapped not one but two bananas on the ass, twerked in public, and I think I made out with someone
Letting Freddy Krueger eat me out = HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ME!!!
It's one of the few times I hit fuck it levels of not caring
On a scale of 0 to Thanksgiving, there is no amount of food that fights against tequila.
I will find, mount, and marry that person.
Write this down so you can tell me in the morning. "That bartender needs to be in my mouth."
Good, but still not as good as the guy I banged in the ball crawl
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