I puked in a mailbox on the way back from your house.
i upgraded from drunk texts to drunk e-mails...real world here i come
just an fyi, false alarm on the whole ghonnorea thing. you're safe.
This inappropriate post strip club text brought to you by Cheetah of Palm Beach and vodka. Blowjob in the champagne room and the clap for the low low price of your paycheck.
He made me write my name on his wall in crayon so he'd be able to remember it in the morning
I immediately knew he was tripping, he came over with a grocery bag of snow balls and a bike helmet on and asked if I was prepared to die for my country.
I woke up to a stripper (who added me on Facebook) messaging me reminding me to cancel my card if I can't find it
Yeeah, I think a threesome is one of those wedding presents you can't register for at Bed Bath And Beyond..
you got into a really intense arguement about protecting bees. it was wierdly arousing.
Woke up this morning to a bunch of snapchats of you drunkenly yelling at grasshoppers. Good night?
chicken nuggets make me a bit homicidal
I woke up next to a box of cheese bread it was super romantic
I just put condoms in a mason jar because it looked prettier than the box.I think I've peaked.
conclusion: canadians have really freaky sex
Just blew on a shot of whiskey to cool it off, like it was soup...
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