I'm texting you from across the beer pong table to tell you that the drunk chick you brought over needs to disappear. like now.
Try and take me seriously and don't look directly at my hair or the jizz on my pants.
He can spot Burberry from half a bar away. He's not into vag
you were feeling the wall and when we asked you why, you just said "because I want to know who lived here before"
One minute you were celebrating, the next you were bleeding all over your Nikes.
Watched twin sisters make out thought it was amazing sick on their part but legit to watch
I just threw up all of my lunch in the Barnes & Nobles parking lot. Rockbottom tastes like a veggie burger, in case you were wondering.
But in defense of this shit summer we've had, I totally perfected my shotgunning skills. I have achieved my summer goal.
Literally told everyone you're my idol cause you ate a chicken nugget off a sword
there was a goddamn geisha at house. my dick feels more cultured.
He's got the most well kempt beard I've ever seen and I need it between my thighs is basically what I'm saying
I don't particularly remember setting a firecracker off in my hand. No more tequila.
Why can't all sociopaths be as fabulous as me?
I think drunk me is trying to kill me.
excused from jury duty. THAT hungover...
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