This is your typical "sorry i got drunk and tried to seduce you into having sex while you were throwing up" text.
Countdown til Saturday. I'd assume we're somewhere around 10,000 bottles of beer on the wall.
my dad just referred to me and my boobs as 'the three of you'
We just saw him running from campus police a few minutes ago. So no, I don't think he's still passed out on the quad.
I'm finding that as the end of the quarter approaches, the list of things I refuse to do sober keeps getting longer.
Its 6 am and me and the girl in the next apartment have been taking turns puking and yelling "never agaaaain" thru the walls.
i feel sorry that you can never enjoy the feeling of shaved balls
most of the afternoon was spent sneaking around my house and alternating which bathrrom to throw up in.
It was one of the greatest weekends of my life. And that's even after factoring in spraying myself in the face with the bidet.
You is good. You is important. You is a slut.
He wanted me to come over on Christmas...inviting your fuck buddy over for the holidays is just something you don't do.
my vag sweat smells like doritos
so now that we're not dating you have to stop sending shit like this to me okay?
He told me to leave him behind and bury him in his batman pajamas. So two lessons I guess, don't give Tom whiskey and don't touch his daddy issues with a twenty nine and a half foot pole.
Stop talking and go back to bed. You're in the kitchen in your underwear and slept in your car.
I found out he hated a girl that I hate so I fucked him. My reasons for fucking guys are getting bad.
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