a hangover this bad deserves a feeding tube
Dude stop singing. Your life is not an episode of fucking glee
We're so high we're finding things in the room to build a submarine with. So far we have two cardboard boxes, a piece of wood, puffy paint, and an empty bottle to use as a periscope.
It's not just about fucking anymore... We decided we're actually in like now..
I forgot to tell you the best part. The folded up paper he wrote his number on opened up to be a picture of him when he was younger wearing a Columbia tshirt in front of NASA and in pen said his name and "space consultant."
I mean can we take a second to high five on our sex life? I love us.
Also, new rule: You are no longer allowed to send me a text with the word "dildo" in it before 10am.
The cop and I then joined forces to get you up off the sidewalk.
I need a leash, or some shame. Maybe.
At one point they were sandwiching me, both petting my stomach, mad dogging each other. Then they somehow telepathically decided to both try to pull my pants down. Such nice guys.
She tried to beat the waitress over the head with a bread stick because one of her martini olives was missing a pimento. All while screaming "IT'S GAMEDAY BITCH"
Olive Garden will never be the same.
According to you, you were with your "Eskimo bro for life" last night.
I licked your asshole in confidence.
Fuck twitter. Fuck men. Fuck bras. Fuck flip flops. Fuck makeup. Fuck perfume.
My brain is a dvd screensaver and I'm allowed to have a good thought when it hits the corner
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