I'm having post traumatic stress flashbacks of last night. That big. Don't know whether to call him again or change my name...
apparently he couldn't remember my name so he refereed to me as whats-her-boobs and everyone knew that it was me he was talking about
He kept singing "who's that peekin in my window" we thought he was high til we realized someone was lookin in the windows.
Correct me if I'm wrong here... but did we serenade each others breasts to "winds of change" last night?
Dude you don't even know. I spilled the tequila and it took 4 people to stop me from drinking it off the table.
Party was cancelled. Me and my dog are high as tits. Wanna go roam the outlet mall?
Jazzercise themed birthday pub crawl. 6 bars in 6 hours.everyone was a hot mess.
I wish men found my impeccable aim when spitting into the sink attractive.
Just a warning... Flip, sip, or strip always ends in all participants being naked. Learning from experience.
Oh no. Did you guys fuck on my pull out couch?
He asked if I had any questions. Apparently, "how thick is the stick up your ass" was not a correct question.
He stopped mid-fuck to explain his choice in pillows. HE WAS STILL IN ME!
I would just like to say that I was the one who said that we should find scissors, when they were cutting your hair with a kitchen knife. I am responsible.
I still feel bad for it, even though I technically only videotaped it and helped will to distract the questioning neighbor
sometime during the night he found me in the empty hotttub singing marvins room in only my bra.
Let's just say if my bucket list had "fngered in the middle of a club by a complete stranger while being sprayed by UV paint" then that is well and truly ticked off.
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