You and your empty threats of no sex. Like.u.cud.hold.out.
The most interesting things happen to you when your pants come down. I truly envy you.
you walked into the kitchen holding the skyy bottle and asked us "how do i warm this?"
I told him the truth. Truth leads to vodka. Vodka leads to tequila. Tequila leads to prison.
Sudden memory flashback: drunk me outside ripping my tampon out and throwing it into the neighbors yard, silently cheering 'time for sexxxx'. I sense a dangerous pattern emerging
Dad and I are shitfaced screaming at Canadians in Walmart. Life is good.
Partying with them is like having your dick stapled to your left nostril
When you licked the fourth stranger's cheek the bar tender pretty much ordered us to get you out.
He didn't get how "starting a flash flood in my thunderhole" was a sexy euphemism. Deal breaker.
he gave me a flinstones gummy vitamin and was like, "ya know.. because of ebola."
Do you want me to add this to the list of actions I will state at your intervention
I'm sitting alone in a bar pretending to watch football because I don't know where the liquor store is around here and I'll be god damned I'm going to be sober on my day off.
i want george washington to fuck me as hard as he can holy shit
Should I apologize for the loud sex I had in his living room? Because I'm not going to.
Definitely not.
i am no longer ashamed when i walk into the dining hall for sunday brunch and i'm greeted with applause for suriving my weekend
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