I asked her if she had any t-shirts of bands that didn't suck. I got a Sublime shirt and my answer.
All I heard was "I swear it'll be funny" and then we were in jail.
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
what customs doesn't know wont hurt them
I have learned that if you don't want to hook up with the guy who walked you home, food is great compensation.
Maybe if he'd step up his game and get a real job instead of donating plasma and trying to grow pot then you wouldn't feel compelled to write prisoners in Oregon.
Clearly I was drunk when I met them I gave them a muffin. But they sure remembered me
He called me in the middle of the night to ask my shoe size. Apparently big feet would make me an unsatisfactory third for the threesome.
Babe, Have you see my pants?
Try Jay street in Brooklyn.. that's where I last remember seeing them.
Accidentally typed message to mom that included word "kink." FML. Played it off as autocorrect from "drink" which was somehow more acceptable
You know it's a good night when the word slut is imprinted on your ass and your hands smell like lube.
I don't care if he's the coolest coworker, if he's living in his mom's basement at 30 you should not buy drugs from him
If walking through the neighborhood with a bottle of tequila and margarita mix is postgrad life, I'm okay with it
We need to move to a different bar soon. When we're standing on the patio, and every guy around us has seen us naked...there's a problem
I have bruises everywhere an I broke the lamp. So ya I'd considerate rough sex.
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