Call me at 7:30 and make sure I'm not asleep in this booth at Waffle House.
She kept calling me her DD, which I assumed meant designated driver, so I was confused because I don't even have a car. Found out later it means designated dick. It's what her and her friends use as code for the guy they want to hook up with at the end of the night. I feel so used.
I am dripping wet and slathered in glitter and banana mush. I love gay guys.
Think they will judge us if our pre drink is a kiddie pool of jello shots?
Now one day I will be able to tell my children how a drag queen in a gay bar told mommy that bin laden was dead
High as shit. I just described caramel syrup on crackers to my mom for 15 minutes...
My boss just told me not to come back to work if I decide to drink. Challenge accepted.
All three roommates are gay and in women's studies. Ive already been informed that all penetration is rape. This is not the college experience I signed up for.
Being drunk is way better. Seriously, I just licked your brother to make sure my spit was actually real.
I assume some self respect is too lofty of a gift idea
I achieved maximum drunk last night. It was pretty extreme. Woke up on a couch, outside, in a suit
30-degree weather + Metal Cockring Monday = really hard to pee.
Spoiler alert: my plans for Halloween are going to make our dealer's birthday look like a bunch of mormon ladies having a scrapbooking circle
I'm sexting with a 20 year old that has a foot fetish... This is what Sailor Jerry drives me to do.
He lit my hand on fire and bought me chicken nuggets. I'm in love.
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