everything is bigger in texas. Including my drinking problem.
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
i'm writing my speech about my 4th grade backstreet boy concert experience. that sums up how seriously i take my life.
I just snuked. Sneezed and puked
I wish a night of watching Dear John and a bottle of wine could cure my herpes.
Guess which guy you've blown just made me sandwich at subway?
Just bought a handle of vodka with the excuse of "just in case we drink tonight"
you kept saying "no santa, im not having sex with you. it's not your holiday".
You told my mom you were going to "Raw Dawg some randoms." That Drunk.
I'm going to make out with someone. I'm on a mission. I don't even care if I'm wearing beer goggles. As long as he's not shorter than me, gay, or a woman.
I literally farted midsex as a siren for him to get the fuck off me.. No such luck.
Talking to him sober hurts my brain
I mean metaphorically speaking, maybe we've all fucked on top of a frat house at some point in our lives
If everything else in my life fails, at least I just had one of my top orgasms
I am getting off work an hour early just to watch you drink. Never let it be said that I don't love you.
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