Barsexuality is the new black.
Every time she shows up on my newsfeed, I get the taste of tequila in my mouth.
He fucked a visibly pregnant girl. It doesn't get weirder than that.
I was crying hysterically and you wouldn't stop petting my ear and shushing me every time I tried to say something.
I've got a whole match.com system. Triple book. First dates always get the 6pm happy hour drinks slot. 8pm dinner goes to a girl where I think I can close the deal. 10pm slot goes to the sure thing in case of emergency, but 6 can always trump 8 and 8 always trumps 10. Just blame it on a dead iPhone battery.
That, my friend, is how I bang 50 new girls a year. Not luck at all. It's science and statistics.
Highlight of the weekend: getting roundhouse kicked in the dick while switching from reverse cowgirl.
He asked me if my princess crown was real and before I could say yes, he was already reaching to put it on. I'm pretending I'm asleep if he tries to have sex.
Well I took a spicy wing shit in a field this morning.
You are the ghost of drunk bitches past, present, and future.
Life without a bra equals bliss.
Tried to shave my legs but the rug burn on my knees from last night got in the way.
I just want to drink bourbon and have sex and then eat like, a Christmas cookie.
Good news. His dicks gotten wayy bigger since high school. I love Thanksgiving break.
I'm drunk still and I cried and now I'm watching Whitney Houston singing the national anthem and I'm crying more
hi, I love you... and I'm sorry your floor is covered in popcorn, your cabinet is broken, all your alcohol is gone, you're 80 dollars poorer, everything in your bedside table is soaked in beer, austin slept in your bed in those disgusting underwear, I made out with your toilet seat, and for talking to your mom with a four loko in my hand
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