I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
She wouldn't stop telling me the story of the penis and how she got laid.
when we were having sex and i started crying and telling you i missed you..why couldnt you stop and tell me how you felt or make me feel better?you kept going...
Sundays have taken on a whole new meaning when I'm not in bed with an excruciating hangover.
shes a baton twirler.. i expected her to be better with her hands.
not to be a dick but do you remember the names of all your friends i made out with after we broke up?
My goal is to upperdeck the house I'm at, because it's some girl I don't know's birthday. Welcome to adulthood, bitch.
No more fucking baseball tools. Walk-of-shamed home in only a pinstriped jersey and a Red Sox SnapBack.
No no no no no no.... That's my emergency bottle for when I realize I've hit rock bottom
I couldn't tell if they ere dancing or fucking but they won the costume contest
I'm getting kicked out of the place we're at. They don't like ketchup on their walls..
the whole bar just wished me luck with my booty call tonight
So I was trying to finish off that sick uv whipped and I chased it with yogurt. Not a good idea
I just spent the last three days trying to hook up with a dude for his pool privileges
In hindsight, I probably should not have let the waiter give me a chiropractic adjustment on my neck last night.
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