It's an acquired taste. Like keystone. Or caviar.
Nothing says I've got my life together like buying a jumbo bottle of 7$ wine in sweat pants on a monday night
You would think that someone would have been sober enough to object to vodka bong races.
He threw me out a window and then threw raw ground beef at us. Normally you'd hate someone for that, but that guy's great.
I vaguely remember walking down the highstreet with a plate of K offering lines to passers buy. I sold a line to a taxi driver.
I've smoked enough weed to put down a pony.
The bed I'm sleeping in has a headboard only handcuffs could love. I'm gonna pick up a local dude and wreck that.
My goal for the night is to see your housemate's one lonely teste.
I mean, two foreign guys have drunkenly confessed their love for her, so she's clearly doing something right.
I walked home with him, but I had to pee...so I did...as we walked. He was so drunk he didn't even notice. Good thing I was in a dress.
Just went to my first strip club and they had Fox News on. Conservative booty time.
He sent me a dick pic, and it had smeared lipstick on it. So I sent him the pic of my tit with the hickey ring your brother gave me.
My roommate wasn't home and I was too drunk and tired so I peed in the trash can. Twice.
Remember that time we were together? Yeah, I don't miss that.
We had a pink drink in honor of my underwear and apparently I made out with our bartender... a few times
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