I am at a bar watching a rat tail get braided.
You thought that the "chillable" logo on the box wine was referring to a city in italy.
I go to guys houses late at night, have a little fun, come back by dawn having made their life a little bit better. I am the official blow job fairy.
Apparently I confessed my love for him last night. Also, my love for cash4gold commercials.
2 classes, 3 finals, and $30 worth of adderall until this semester is over.
I officially lit my glove on fire while lighting the bong. Winter needs to end.
I think the pivotal moment was when we used the see and say as a drinking game with shots of whiskey. It was all downhill after that.
during charades she pointed to herself and you guessed 'girl who wants to fuck me'
when was she peeing in the stairwell? why dont i remember this?
....because generally we only remember 40% of the night each, and have to fill eachother in. And that still leaves 20% that we will never know and its probably for the best
i'm scootering my little heart out so i'm not late for a weed pickup. this is the meaning of adolescence
ok, i suppose pissing your pants could be considered a wardrobe malfunction.
Beyoncé wouldn't let anything bad happen here
He dropped some cash when he got in my front seat upside down. And a hat. I'm keeping them as retribution for not remembering that he had sex with me once before. Although, if he didn't have his dick pierced, I wouldn't have remembered either.
I just want you to know you're the worst sister ever.
If this is about me and your ex, it's not my fault she doesn't like men.
Our livers get a hall pass for 2020, right?
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