Quick, to the slutcave!
I'm someone's dream girl. I'm hungover in this guy's bed wearing ONLY a Brian Westbrook jersey. Not the same I was on a date with last night.
I'm drinking keystone with a homeless man I found. It's making me feel uncomfortable.
Why am I the only one concerned that there's a dog in the movie theatre?
I feel like jumping into a breast pit right now. Like the old school ball pits at mcdonalds.
Is it bad of me to apply as a night shift counselor at a boys orphanage purely because of how laid that would get me at bars?
him being a republican bothers me way more than his coke problem.
Drunk life lesson just learned the hard way: do not try to play hump the great dane. He may take you up on it.
You cant come. You're a Colorado native who drinks Bud over Coors. Fucking homegrown terrorist.
My dad used the quotation mark gesture with his hands when he asked how my "roommate" was doing.
That may be because I drunkenly sent him a pick of you two curled up together like kittens. Two very buff kittens.
We're Scorpios. We're like dogs rolling in whatever smells good to us.
You got kicked out after 30 minutes, 3 beers and 2 shots. Group record. Also you kept rubbing his belly and calling him buddha.
He was smart enough to bring a condom to our study date so I mean I'm sure he'll do fine on the test
he looks like the poster child for myspace how the hell does he have other hoes?
Where is everybody?
It's pretty much split between the strip club and jail.
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