he asked me to marry him on one of those scrolling message belt buckels.... what now?
the mandatory saturday morning class for those written up by RA's turned into a gold mine...just met EVERY hot chick that parties.
I am trying to think of a way to make alcohol cupcakes
Her gay brother kept hitting on me and cockblocking me. Don't even begin to tell me how bad your night was.
Omg just remembered. I tried to kidnap a dog.
Wow. A quad shot of peppermint schnapps. I feel like I just deep throated a candy cane. Best 21st ever.
Come on. I'll make you hot pockets. Literally and sexually.
I want a calm night. Not one where I wake up to you topless and bloody.
Not only is he in the circus, the man survived a near death experience and has an accent. She might as well have found a unicorn. This shit just doesn't happen in real life. Where did she meet this magical creature?
I'm definitely not at Wal-Mart eating jalapeno poppers with an elevated blood alcohol content
So it's official the pockets of my work apron exist solely for the purpose of secretly flipping off asshole customers and not losing my job.
I baked a frozen pizza completely, put it back in the plastic and box, and put it back in the freezer. THAT drunk.
But seriously, I love having sex with you and simultaneously know I never wanna date you.
Hey the moment you step into my house, find me IMMEDIATELY so we can pinky promise on not roping anyone at the party into yet another threesome
Either my boss has an enormous dick or he’s hiding a can of tennis balls in his bike shorts
Maybe I will go to the company picnic
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