he asked me to marry him on one of those scrolling message belt buckels.... what now?
Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
The required reading for this week is a paper about birds called great tits. Let's see my TA keep a straight face through this discussion.
For a limited time only, free special muffin with the referral of a loyal dro customer! Have it for breakfast and be happy off your ass all day! Guaranteed! New member must buy at least an eighth. Oh and O's are on sale for 280.
You. Win. At. Life.
My head feels like a nest made of hair and cum
No Robbie is the name of a kid or dog, not an adult man who's fucking you.
Its like a match made in avoid-eachother-because-we're-antisocial-and-awkward heaven
Whiskey dick is like insurance for making bad decisions
I feel like im becoming the girl who only drunk texts him. I would be in the dog house, if situations like this had dog houses.
I can't wait to get home and brush the fuck outta my teeth.
Literally.
My hungover walk of shame was interrupted by a stranger on a balcony throwing me a beer to shotgun... at 10 a.m....
The girl I was Skype sexing just asked for a moment of silence for robin Williams.
HE HAS CHALLENGED MY BADNESS. I MUST CONQUER ALL THAT QUESTIONS MY POWER. BRING FORTH THE TIT PICS.
Make me food? I don't want to be a science experiment. I'm dunk. Holy shit. Drunk*. Let's do science.
Let me atleast have my coffee before you start talking about your penis
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