I don't know if it was the room or her, but as soon as the pants came off, it smelt like a locker room and old man farts.
I don't not like him. It's just wierd talking to him because we both know I fucked his wife.
Her inability to understand the word "moderation" is the achille's heel of an otherwise perfect human
So on a scale of 1 to Friendship-Over, how mad would you be if a rando I brought home sharted on the shag carpet in the living room?
The things happening in my intestines right now should only ever happen at truck stops and frat houses.
I danced with this guy last night, I left like I was humped by a blind baby kangaroo trying to body-box.
This stupid maranara sauce stain sucks. It keeps distracting me and it looks like I'm staring at my tits.
I lost my favorite bra in his hotel room. Is it bad that that's the only reason I hope he texts me tomorrow?
Leave it to me and my dad to puke on the same guy at the same bar 25 years apart
…wtf were in those pills mom gave me
Like the fear of satan was put into my heart when I saw him put that sandwich on the WOODEN BENCH
Pretty sure by 1p, she had fucked all of my bodily fluids out of me. I'm now trying to replace them with bourbon so 2016 is turning out pretty good.
Now it's a thing. He's kind of a creeper and now he's lotioning me. This is going to turn into a Buffalo Bull situation.
Yeah, but i got vodka and bacon out of it, so it's fine.
I'm stuck on a cliff. I'm not sure how I got here or how to get down. Please send help. And clothes.
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