Why do you proceed to call me "Queen La Queefah?"
it's like, God thought about making her pretty then changed his mind at the last second
when we asked you if you had had anything to drink tonight you looked up from the toilet while cupping the water into your hands and said "this.. just this"
shes perfect for him. shes never seen a penis so she has nothing to compare his to.
You tried to sled down the middle of the street. In. Your. Coat. Of course you are bruised.
We got to the party at eleven, and the host was already in the hospital from being stabbed. And she brought the stabber home with us when we left.
I gave his parents a candle as a thanks for letting me hang out there all the time. Which i guess is more accurately a thanks-for-letting-me-fuck-your-son candle
Ahh good point. I got some interesting mental pics and I'm slowly entering a "fuck it, lets do weird shit" phase sexually, but you may have already figured that out since I've been fucking you sideways and upside down a lot lately.
You kept saying you only wanted to drink until you were sleepy. You succeeded if "sleepy" means you sleepied around with 4/6 of the guys there.
You leaned over so she could squirt ketchup in your hair and then started chanting "KETCHUP NIGHT!! KETCHUP NIGHT!!!"
He called me skinny, I broke his garbage disposal, then denied him sex. Normal second date etiquette.
Can you bring home an IV stand and an empty bag so I can direct inject coffee for work tomorrow morning?
Does me being hung over take away from how professional I can be today?
I no longer need a flask. I need a canteen.
I feel like sleeping with foreign people is a long term investment. It's like a time share. Now when I go to London I have a place to stay.
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