Omg I def was not. I wasn't that drunk. I showed that I stuff my bra but I didn't whip my tit out.
i have a feeling tonight will end in rehab
school has made you so classy.
that's mcgill. producing sluts since 1884.
look, i may have sacrified a 20% assignment for a sprite. this is what hangovers do to me.
our night together was a product of my beer goggles and jennifer aniston-like desperation.
Maybe if i steal enough bar glasses i can justify all the money spent i've spent there
advice for life: when the cop takes your tallboy, don't ask for your coozy back
For some reason I just don't think you going to the gay bar alone on thanksgiving is a good idea.
I had a dream that we erected a stage in our living room for "impromptu performances" how can we make this a reality?
Its official vodka lemonade jager and whiskey with coorslight is a bad combination of try to forget the work week cocktail ps bring alkaseltzer
We ate our feelings. Then drank our feelings. I feel feminism delivered.
Braid them armpits, sister.
PS my house is a mess.
pps I have a rash on my face.
You rope them in with the looks and the boobs, and I'll bore them into submission with random trivia. We can't lose.
We go out, we get drunk, we watch Star Wars, we pass out. What's wrong with this tradition?
He didn't get how "starting a flash flood in my thunderhole" was a sexy euphemism. Deal breaker.
Randomize