So at this point...I'm sure you heard the story about Saturday night
Holy mother of cocks. I was grind-with-my-boss drunk last night.
it's ok. you also told me I can feel free to vomit on your blow dryer sometime.
I found his backpack for the weekend. All it had was ping pong balls, mardi gras beads, and Tums.
What is the protocol for an "i'm sorry I had my ex retrieve me from the bar so I didn't drive drunk" blow job
This weekend was suppose to be a 'smoke weed and stare at things' weekend. Not a 'spend all my rent money partying with Europeans till 8 am' weekend
Yeah but those French chicks did get naked
I mean like, my liver will beg my brain for mercy. Brainll be like I'm Greg Jennings. Liverll be like I'm Darren Sharper. Brainll be like hold my diiiiick.
We just taught the Brazilian how to smoke out of a vuvuzela.
You put your finger on my lips and told me 'the butt is nature's pocket'.
I don't remember that at all, but I stand by what I said
When I took off my jeans he became more excited about my Elmo underwear than sex but to be fair, who can blame him. They're awesome undies.
Sometimes I refuse to go through a door until someone holds it open for me because I'm a fucking lady.
I just found a bag of chex mix in my clutch
You were feeding it to the bartender last night
I woke up with my converse still on and a plate of pasta next to my face, if that gives you any indication of how my night went
he was wearing pj pants, thank you for not letting me go home with him
I'm hearing voices and sirens. I'm scared. I heard a manatee out there.
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