Woke up in an unfamiliar basement in a sleeping bag with Matt to a police officer shining his flashlight in my eyes and asking me my birth date and social security number. My morning went swimmingly.
Pretty sure I just has te same conversation as you. He suggested I get, sell, and fuck the hoes, and once all was said and done, that I should refer afforementioned hoes to him, to perform felatio.
It's only 4 pm and I'm already way past my preferred quota of "could have died" moments
you wanted the guy to gift wrap the condoms
She was mid-sentence and then BOOM the hammock broke off the tree. I about pissed myself. Hot Sprite and Vodka make the world go round.
Because of his penis, I can't even look at a hot dog
Mr. Clingalot just ran from our apartment. What the hell?
I started to cry afterward and mumble random things. Examples: "God, please don't make me be so gay anymore" and "my mom is going to be so proud of me for fucking a dude this time." It was that or let him stay the night and cuddle. I mean, fuck that horrible shit I'm a girl that needs her space.
I feel as if we moved beyond the hook up stage when she blew me as I drunkenly finished my chicken nuggets.
This is the Santa Claus of hangovers. It just keeps giving.
Sorry you had to clean the sheets with your macro notes
Apparently nick called me at 3 in the morning looking for you because you ate your keys and ran away..do I need to call an ambulance.
She bit my shoulder during foreplay last night, and it's already infected. I think she has rabies.
You poured 151 in your eye, ran face first into a tree, fell down, then threw a lawn chair at the dog...all before passing out in the hallway and pissing yourself. There is no way to redeem yourself.
Walk of shame through Chipotle? Check.
She won't let me meet her hot new boy toy just because she thinks it'll lead to us having a threesome. It's not fair. I thought we were friends...
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