We played Rock, Paper, Scissors last night to see who was the least drunk to drive.
The Rock won.
It saddens me that girls will never know the wonder feeling of pulling your sweaty nutsack off of your leg.
Margaritas ran out of lime juice. Substituted Jaeger. Jaegerita not good.
So she comes up to me at the end of the night and asks me if I going to take her home and fuck her. I pretty much had to right?
you had an obligation.
We're having the conversation about what happened last night, all we can come up with is that we came home, drank two litres of lemonade, I took one of her seizure pills and we fell asleep with sabrina the teenage witch on
Just bought the plane tickets. Light headed. Blood rush to clit oh god blue clit. Mayday mayday vagina down!
Remind me in the future that chugging dog codeine is not the best idea.
At one point 12 people dressed in care bear onesies were up on stage grinding super nasty, and two of the girl Care Bears were making out.
If this wasn't a hallucination, we need to go to this magical kingdom every night of the week.
Hot dogs and hydrocodine is NOT the combo of champions
Chilling on my porch debating between pre work drinking or video games and getting high.
I don't think you understand what laundry day means. I am wearing a swimsuit as underwear and my spanish club tshirt from junior high
It wasn't a mystery that it was the pizza cooking in the oven when we stumbled out of the bedroom in a smoke filled apartment at 2am. We are dangerous drunks
I've been to his house multiple times since that night and I STILL can't find my bra. And he says the hot tub ate my thong.
I've had pants off for 3 hours now. America.
I just upped my southern womanhood. Taking whiskey and Kleenex pocket packs to the funeral.
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