Memo to the bitch sitting across from me at Swamp: no one thinks you're classy with your Louis Vuitton and your Burberry scarf when you're dragging on that cig like it was the last cock on earth and you needed cum for sustenance.
Everytime she tries to call me all I can think about is when she tripped walking down my steps during her walk of shame. Then I laugh until it goes to voicemail
so, i drunkenly called my religious roomie because i was lost and told her if she couldn't come find me, jesus would condemn her to hell for not leading me to the light .. too much?
how do i tell her that i need alcohol to fuck her but at the same time i cant get a hard on with alcohol.
it looked like a condom graveyard when i woke up. they were everywhere
Dear vodka that I hid in a water bottle in the backseat of Blairs car, I'm sorry that she gave you away to a man on side of the road with an over heated engine. I'm sure the car doesn't appreciate you as much as I would have.
they described our state of being as looking similar to a crime scene....you were on the ground and i was running around screaming.
Did Kevin really put his bar tab under the name Hercules last night?
guess who's eating a vending machine cheese danish, has no panties on, and is still the classiest bitch at this bus stop?
I am way too attached to fictional lesbians.
No, no. The rest of his everything inspires me to put his dick in my mouth
If you can get her to make out with you without paying for it, I will personally make you president of the american lesbian league
I said, hypothetically speaking, if I was going to be having some rough sex Friday night, when WOULD be the best time for a massage, mother dear?
When he identified himself as captain clitoris i knew my night was fucked.
we bonded over knowing every word to freaky gurl by gucci mane so it’s kinda starting to make sense why I gave him head in his cul de sac
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