I'm home alone watching The Hills seasons, eating pickles and drinking straight rye. I just googled "how to make friends". Probably not the most pro-active solution. Help.
You're the 8th person from last night to text me this morning and ask if I'm ok.
Its trashy in the best of ways. Like a stripper working to pay for college.
The sweet smell of jungle juice and bad decisions is calling our name.
I just want a guy that likes cats and is willing to get a vasectomy. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?!
No. I'm just saying it shows no signs of stopping. My dad was a man-whore well into his 50s.
Every time you started making out for him we all cheered for you... that's what sorority sisters do - they cheer you on when you make bad life decisions at the bar.
What's the standard Christmas present for six months of booty calls?
Mobile recharge?
You just kept screaming "PLEASE YELL CORNDOG AT HIM. PLEASE. CORNDOG."
I now have a bottom rung on my kissing scale. Like I can say "Well. On a scale of Matt to Braxton he was probably a Zach." It's the little things.
I have never encountered a chode in the wild
I see the guy who's been trying to get me to let him eat my ass became engaged on Facebook today; would framed screen shots be an appropriate wedding present?
You told him he looked like Jesus and that you wanted to fuck his face, I'd say your blind date went well
And the last thing I remember was you in the bed with the german guy screaming "wrong hole" I laughed n passed out
We’ve got a propane heater on our back porch if you want to come over and eat a McRib in peace
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