I just found a frying pan...in my bed.
He's been dead since March and more people write on his wall than mine.
we went to sleep in different beds and woke up spooning. alcohol truly is the anti-cockblocker.
Is it bad to go up to the security desk and ask them for the name of the guy I signed in last night? I have absolutley no clue
he kept his composure pretty well until he puked on the cop car
Whatever. It was high school. Back then I'd blow anyone who had enough room between their chest and their steering wheel for my head to fit.
The bouncer yelled at him for poking at the guy selling roses, I think it's time to leave.
I woke up to the sound of gentle rain, only to realize I was laying under a urine trough in the men's restroom. Fuck you, bourbon. Fuck you.
It was drunk tag. I was Alice in wonderland chasing a ballerina who was chasing Lance Armstrong who had needles in his arms.
At some point he mentioned fried rice and take out... I don't think we know how sexting works
Well, if worst comes to worst, I have pictures of his penis that I can put on the internet
Jealous. I want an iud. Maybe there's a late night bodega that'll insert one for me
He was like the most intimidating looking guy you've seen in your life except he was really shittily doing the two step
I accidentally made jungle juice last night.
A piece of your chipped nail polish just fell out of my crotch.
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