and she was grinding on the wall, purring at guys she liked at the pregame...
his grandma walked in on us. twice. and he was truly fucking surprised when i put my pants back on.
i dont care how hungover you are, go back to the frat house and get him. HE IS 11.
we didnt even make it to the club...the two of us were sharing a plastc bag in the taxi puking into it.
He gave me an elaborately handwritten invite (on a bar coaster) back to his place and whispered in my ear 'i have ping pong'. And he said byob. fuck THAT.
Yes, i finally made it. but let me tell you...i can smell myself right now in class right now, this scent is called alcoholism.
I'm like a savant for remembering names I learned while I was drunk. Seriously, I'm three for three. I'm on a roll.
What I do when I'm blackout drunk is none of my business.
Whenever you get off. By "pick me up from work" I mean, "pick me up from a bar by work at your earliest convenience" :)
I knew it was a bad night when the only thing I could remember was you force feeding me tortilla chips as I hugged the tire of my car and begged to have my stomach pumped.
We're sitting in the bathtub, eating pizza, doing shots of vvodka and comparing nipples. I havfe never been so comfortable in my life.
I told people at my moms bar that all I needed to sober up was to get my asshole licked, and I blame you 110%.
Leave it to me and my dad to puke on the same guy at the same bar 25 years apart
I don’t have the time, patience, or blood alcohol level to deal with her.
Do NOT. I repeat. DO NOT call me little one after we have fucked. In no world is that ok. Even jesus agrees.
Randomize
