i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
i love how he claims to not know english but when i ask him to come over and fuck me he's all of a sudden fluent
in the morning i found her name, number and address on one of the empty pizza boxes. also said "ps. if you find my shoes please mail to me."
I'm sitting here in nothing but my panties, eating beef jerky and reese's for breakfast.Today is not the day to expect me to make sound life decisions.
I'll never forget how blunt of a wingman you were. "Excuse me, my friend wants to makeout with someone"
And by "hammer out the details" you know I mean spending 20 minutes on wedding plans then getting wine drunk, right?
So the keyword here is "hammered"?
The party invite said "this ain't no lame stoplight party, you come to hookup or you don't come" I feel like their honesty deserves out attendance
Not to mention having our pick at the ensuing sausagefest
Dicks are so weird. He has kind of a feminine comforter in the background.
So I bet a guy he could drink two irish car bombs faster than me and I lost. now he gets to name our first son. sory.
It's Jesse McGoddamn Cartney, the whole world sings that shit
Can you bring me some underwear? I feel uncomfortable going underwear less at a Remembrance Day ceremony.
A million fucking miles away, and the sun still manages to fuck my hungover mornings up.
my comprehension of H.D. Thoreau really dives after 8 beers.....
It will astound me if they ever let you graduate.
I don't actually like you. I just want to hook up with you.
I'm fine with that
Look. All I'm saying is that if the USWNT can win a shit ton of medals and have two gay love stories with happy endings, there's still hope in this world
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