Your last words were "i'm gonna motorboat the bartender." then you commenced with an attempted motorboat
he told her to call him "Frog Legs" and she still fucked him and not you.
you cant just puke in an arbys and not order food. thatd be rude.
halloween is the only time that anne boleyn, the joker, a cowgirl, and a mexican man complete with sombrero and poncho can all hit the same blunt
he said he wished i had balls so he could kick me in them. then we had sex obviously
Just cause I'm shitfaced wasted every night waking up in random beds all over Manhattan does not mean I'm a mess.
Truth. Respect the hustle.
how is it that I keep meeting up with you when Im drunk?
you stand on my porch screaming my name until I come out with you...
I have just found the cubicle of sustenance. And I will rejoice at all the families that have not found this magic. This vodka cubicle of magic.
You are hereby uninvited from future Turnt Tuesdays until further notice.
I was thinking we could get together and exchange gifts, and by gifts I mean orgasms.
HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP YOUR SECRETS IF YOU KEEP ON TELLING ME THEM.
Holy shit last night was like the irresponsible Olympics for me
We ended the night eating peanutbutter with our hands and smoking cigarettes in the house at 4am. Fucking Everclear, man.
Apparently his version of saying "I'm Sorry" is streaking around our apartment building then asking for a blow job.....
I'm drunkenly throwing popcorn at a spider, fuck him. Why does his scary 8 legs get to be happy?
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