you may be an alcoholic when your drug dealer calls to yell at you for drinking too
Puked in a cab. Passed out on my floor an my mom put a blanket over me. Home by 1045. I won shitshow trophy last night.
i'm too stoned to be pregnant. the kicking is morse code for wanting beef jerky.
I don't care. I'm going to fuck John's friend and it's all your fault.
He tried to slow-dance with me in bed. IN BED.
she walked out and i tried to get her to come back but i couldn't remember her name so i just whistled... future reference: that doesn't work
You showed up at my apartment after 3 am wasted with a plate of cookies and tried to hook up.
Sorry about that. Except for the cookies.
There's just something about a dollar tree pregnancy test that screams THIS WASNT PLANNED!
At least you got some premium homework time. Still drinking vodka from a coffee cup?
I switched to water. When the numbers get blurry you are no longer being productive.
You don't have anything to lose--we've established that he's not going to murder you and he smells good.
I enjoy it and I rock at it. I wish there were a respectable way to make giving blow jobs a career.
We just took back to back grav bong hits and are playing battleship. She guessed Z - 12 so weve switched board games.
FYI: Brian said he left me in the bathroom Friday night to shower and 45 minutes later found me with a towel around my head, my pants on and holding my boobs. No more Jell-O shots for me.
So apparently dinosaur erotica does, in fact, exist.
On the plus side, he ate me out and gave me an orgasm. But he also talked about robots during sex and mispronounced it like the dad in the goldbergs and called them “robits”
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