I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
You discussed the Arab/Israeli conflict with the guy behind the counter at the Kebab shop telling him you supported his people. He was clearly Asian.
If I knew losing weight would mean this many fucking creepers I would've just stayed fat.
Oh, and thanks to you. I'm now stuck in the living room, held hostage, listening to my roommate's "How I discovered I was bi" story. FUCK YOU.
i found him! he's on the front porch using a bag of potting soil as a pillow. i forgot i left him there.
As a female I reserve the right to put my ipod in my cleavage because I have no pockets and not get judged by other girls right??
I can't talk to her. I know entirely too much about her genitals to hold a conversation without mentioning them.
You will never know an awkward moment until your parents pick you up from a one night stand.
was it wrong to tell him he's welcome in my pants any time?
i made the walk of shame wearing her booty shorts that said juicy on the back. i'm still counting it as a good night
We call her skankles because she's a skank and she has cankles, I thought that was obvious
Yeeeaahhh, I'm in no rush to dismiss a level 6 booty-call that pays my bar tabs and understands my Harry Potter obsession.
You know what? The sex was so bad that I don't even care that I gave him strep.
If I take one more surprise finger up the ass this week there will be hell to pay.
Drunk is a universal language darling
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