I knew you were gonna be a good wingman when the words "dibs on the chunky one" came out of your mouth.
It involved homemade coconut rum, a waterfall, and street signs. I'll leave the rest to your capable imagination.
You should get a handy in the street again, just to prove you've still got it.
But the ghost of his schlong past haunts you
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
As far as drugs go, alcohol has all the elegance and precision of hitting yourself in the head with a hammer.
Don't you realize there's more to life than sex and pizza rolls?
I'm like a magical alcohol dispenser. I pulled this kahlua out of my vagina.
Apparently that big girl from last night tried to take me upstairs when I was blacked out and all I did was grab Qs arm and whisper 'don't let her take me'
Mimosa dick, like his cousin Whiskey dick, is just as ineffective but a lot more fun to be around
What's more sad than going to Target to buy Plan B and the new Sam Smith album?
The fact that I can sew my leggings while intoxicated proves I'm a functioning alcoholic
Then his buddy called and said "my car broke down, I need a ride. If I'm not home by midnight they'll extend my house arrest." And I knew it was time to leave.
Someone needs to lock me in a chastity belt because all my vagina does is get me into trouble. Fuck.
So now I'm just going to brush my teeth, get high, and go to sleep. Like an adult
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