I just saw two girls throwing up in the bathroom. they were high-fiving under the stall...
On my arm I have 12 dashes, and below is written "plus 2 pretty stout whiskey drinks, so, you be the judge"
I walk in to see her roommate half naked on their stripper pole. I knew I was home.
I know the scar will be in an obvious place, that's why I'm certain it'll score me cancer blowjobs
I have diapers under my sink. trying to convince myself to use them.
You kept making up "snapple facts" every time you opened a beer.
it was like i was on a global safari of uncircumcised men
since you saved your number in my phone as "the hot chick you met last Friday" I don't know who you are either
I may or may not have just sent the bartender a pic of me in my slutty cheerleader costume with the caption "rah rah ree, gimme yo d"
It's all fun and games until you throw up hot cheetos in your drawer.
I can't sleep. My mind keeps asking "turn down for what?" but it won't accept any of my answers.
I just asked him what would happen if my boobs fought crime. I think I'm cut off.
WTF. I was 99% sure I went straight home last night. I just woke up hugging a chair, and my tux pocket has a flask filled with what I think is red bull and gatorade. This has to be your doing.
My life is a random series of events connected only by bottles of Seagram's 7
Your dick. My mouth. We have 20 minutes.
Randomize
