What happened to our ballroom dancing plans
Brandy, I need a picture of your boobs. Not time to explain.
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.
I can practically hear my vag and my conscience fighting.
What do I have to do to get you laid? I talked to that girl with the ugly dog for 45 minutes trying to get you in, and all you said was "Steven Spielberg is my favorite director."
I hid a girl's boot last night so I could ransom it back this morning via the "blowjobs for boots" program.
At least I tried to be smart when I brought the alarm clock into the bathroom just in case I fell asleep.
We couldn't get our shit together to go to the bar, so we're getting drunk and facebook stalking all the girls who have gotten fat since high school. Any names you wanna throw out?
He had me saved in his phone as "Dick Socket". Lets see if I ever fuck him in a bathroom again.
We went to the casino to try to earn enough money to go to new Orleans comfortably. I'm already drunk. This is a horribly immoral start to summer.
I see your smile in the face of every drunk that senses he's about to slay a troll.
First of all you can never say anal too much. Second I now think you're a total gentleman.
Rarely has that paragraph ever been put together
Within the hour, he sent me 8 texts and 4 voice memos. One of the memos was just him whistling for 3 minutes. ...It's official, I attract the crazies.
Just woke up, shitty hungover, and realized that every article of clothing I slept in was backwards, bra included. Fuck you, gin. Fuck you.
I was cracking open beer cans, throwing them off the roof, and yelling "FRAG OUT!"
Randomize
