you can't spend the night you always smell like dirty underwear and my roommates complain
my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
my mouth smells like i just ate out a crab.
you handed the cop a condom last night and said "it's all about protect and serve right?"
high in an attic. pig roast in 10.
please come over and have sex with me so we can talk about prom and kill 2 birds with one condom
I wish Samuel L. Jackson would narrate our bar crawls
i think the title to my autobiography shall be, "a bottle of vodka and various pieces of meat"
and this is why you're my favorite gay friend.
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
He awkwardly handed me plan b on Pickens Street... it was like a sketchy drug deal.
I just really wish I could go back and unsex him. Waste of my vagina.
Omg I just woke up. In the hallway outside my room. I know you had something to do with this
my alarm on my phone broke at the bar sooo i had to sleep with someone so i'd wake up on time for work.
You were sober bartending last night right?
Sorta. I remember you crying, ripping rose petals off the flower stem and slowly sprinkling them behind the bar at me and singing softly
Romantic
And by "sexually intimate," you mean fuck buddies?
Randomize
