you're like the ceasar milan of boners... you understand them on a different level.
Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
After he proceded to violently molest my tits until 9 am i snuck out of his room only to meet his mother downstairs, who informed me she heard the giant sexfest going on in the room next to them.. this was before she called us both "chickenshits".. worst walk of shame ever.
we thought you were sober enough for a movie but you took one look at emily blunt and screamed "aw this bitch?!" and passed out 30 seconds later
my mom just emptied my water bottle filled with vodka into the turtle tank.
we're making bets on your personal life
I found a tip from a dart in my bra this morning
Todays life lesson brought to you by last nights half pitchers of cheap sangria: you'll never get the stain or the SMELL of sangria vomit out of your bedroom carpet.
Sincerely would love to tap that, on a mountain with the wind blowing on your pubes .
I should just black out in my front yard again- that was a great nights sleep.
Just cleaned someone else's sperm off of my bedroom wall. Never throwing a house party again.
Do you remember the guy that smelled like hot dogs?
First. I had the strength. Now. I am the death.
Oh, the accent alone guaranteed a bj. It was when he started drunkenly singing in PERFECT PITCH that I knew I was fucking him.
Just to let you know we went to the circus yesterday...in case you didn't remember
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