I am choosing my outfit based on how fast I can get it off. Please help.
I felt like a body pillow being humped by a twelve year old.
This hangover is way worse than all my relationships
We're too lazy to do dishes, so we're making sangria in a flower vase.
I told the hostess, two bouncers and a manager i was roofied and made them smell my beer. Turns out I just picked up some stupid bitches CHERRY WHEAT beer by mistake. I insisted they replace my lost beer.
His apology was sex and a subway sandwich. Strangely, I'm okay with that.
I didn't cheat on him. He just hasn't been informed of the open part of our relationship.
So... Apparently, "Home" isn't the correct response when a cop asks for your address...
i introduced myself to everyone by my new name, thundergooch. i threatened the neighbors with a hammer when they used my real name. needless to say, sailor jerry was not kind to me.
He is nice. Kind of short though. But didn't try to rub his jean cock on me.
Which I appreciated.
Go to hungover. Go directly to hungover. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars
I made out with about ten people last night. And four of them were just on the way to my car from the bar. And one was my roommate.
One day we'll be rich enough to go to rehab. Until then, fuck it.
She fucked the dishwasher AND the manager.
Well, she isn't a classist. You've got to give her that.
I can't believe the police had to bring me to my booty call last night
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