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There are not one, but two women wearing my boxers on the couch right now. You need to wake the fuck up.
and lets be real... who can blow a middle school class's sunday school teacher and keep a straight face ever again? NOBODY.
No. I want to vom filet mignon and ziti bits everywhere and my body feels like I ran a cock triathalon. I feel less triumphant and more like death.
No, man, we stole the housekeeper's key and we're just going room to room raiding mini fridges. Hurry
Logan has the vodka and snickers. We're making a run for it. Room 302
There's always a certain something about a day that begins with your panties in your purse.
I started scrolling back in our texts looking for context and a picture of your dick rose like the Great Pumpkin in the middle of my screen.
Those tiny little fruit fly looking mofos. They fly past the phone and I grabbed them like Daniel-San
I'm not sure... How do you tell someone who was so smashed they couldn't remember shoving their dick into the fireplace that their mother actually witnessed the whole thing?
My sister texted me to say she just found a corn on the cob in her purse from last night. You need to party with us more.
It took me an hour to walk from my drive way to my front door... what the fuck was in that weed?
So she was on top of my phone and somehow called my roommate while I banged her. I picked up and he congratulated me. I was with his sister. I will take this to my grave.
Chicks dig it when you smell like bong water and frebreeze.
At least get laid and waffle fries out of it you whipped basterd
She tied me to the bed and did lines off my chest before sex. I’m going to put that on my bucket list just so I can cross it off
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