My roommate just called. He's in Miami and has no idea how he got there. He also has a ticket to Buenos Aires that he can't explain. I figured you'd have the explanation.
Great. I get laid, Leslie Nielsen dies. I can't have have sex anymore, the film community can't take another loss like this.
Couldn't see or hear that well because she hit me on the back of the head with a bat. That is my excuse. Also the gin.
I drank entirely too much. My skin hurts to wear
I mean...he was throwing up for almost 3 consecutive hours. I don't think there's a chance in hell that would have tasted even close to tolerable.
Im on my period and I feel like I'm going to die. The only thing that can make this tolerable is for you to eat me out in the shower. Please. I'll do anything.
Where are you?! I require drunk, males and possibly crying. Vomiting is optional and/or optimal as is karaoke.
He pissed on a police station. Then expected to not be arrested. Sounds accurate.
Why am I the only one golf clapping for the vomiting girl on the train who just fell of her seat into her own vomit
A very confused plastic surgeon just called. Apparently I called asking how much it costs to get a vodka funnel installed straight to my brain...
Competitive oral. I'm always telling girls they are only the fourth, maybe third, best blowjob I've had. They go back down with something to prove.
I have tan lines from my nipple rings.
Sloppy and selfish. Your 27 and you don't know where my clit is? BYEEE
If I get back to the house before you, I'm setting up the swing. If you get there before me, it's chains and cuffs.
I cannot believe I am seriously having a conversation about my best friend's sexual prowess as a dream lesbian.
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