there were at least 5 of us standing around the bathroom stall cheering you on to throw up.
all you kept yelling was "i'm bored and i'm sober"
she is using a fork to eat popcorn and refuses to drink gatorade out of anything but a margarita glass... did i mention the popcorn is on a plate?
as they left, you opened the door, dropped your pants then yelled "don't leave, this is what you're missing"
And there I was, sitting Indian style on the kitchen floor, my fingers covered in peanut butter.
Was that not clear on Friday when I nearly deapthroated two ice cubes?
You then proceeded to tell me how good of a cook you were and put raw cookie dough in the champagne.
You asked me if you could throw up in my shoe.
I'm in Starbucks carrying the boxes wine and the hubcap. So many judging looks.
Dude, I puked in the stall for God knows how long. Halfway through, a kid sits down in the stall next to me and starts jacking off, i heard the porn on his phone and everything. so FYI, the middle stall is where good nights go to die
I think I'm a wingman for every guy who bangs a girl I scarred in highschool.
I stepped in puke last night then washed it off my shoe with beer. Is there a grace period to respect before wearing them to class?
I just had sex on my divorce papers. I've never felt so poetic.
this strobe light makes my body turn on and off
My boobs are too perky to pay that much for a car
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