I hope my theory books are in my locker, but if not, I guess I can always share with you.
Who said I want to share with you?
You've sucked my dick, I'm pretty sure you don't care if I look at your theory book.
I just banged two guys while dressed like an angel. I love this holiday.
Don't mean to be rude. But did you, by any chance, cut down a tree from my neighbors backyard last night? And did you also drag it to my yard and burn it?
Just ran four miles to popeye's. And back. Dedication.
I bet. I bought a surfboard and a kite and filled my camelback with vodka-tonics. Let's do this
You offered me some of your "Jungle Juice." It was just 151 and Absinthe. I don't know how you are still alive.
Sunday Funday has been cancelled indefinitely, due to lack of self control of all parties involved.
I'm just pissed at the whore who takes over my body when I'm blacked out.
Is it bad if I just put band-aids over my nipples? Way too hungover be dealing with a bra
Liquor doesn't fix sad, but it sure as hell lowers my standards for a rebound.
You grabbed the hot guy that was making out with his girlfriend all night, slurred "I need to borrow this" then shoved your hand down his pants. All because you thought your ex walked into the bar. It was majestic in its shitshowness.
THE EAGLE HAS MY PANTIES. I REPEAT. THE FUCKING MASCOT HAS MY PANTIES.
HOLY SHIT. You're my hero.
It's not safe here. I had urgent and violent diarrhea last night, and I got blackout drunk. Please don't come over.
My legacy here is being that tiny blonde girl that threw someone down and shouted "Fuck your face, I'm Dee Dee Ramone."
the roommate is literally cooking green eggs n ham, and I'm too hungover to see straight. Dr Seuss nightmare.
Randomize
