Rocking a Headband at the strip club, because of Rock of Love this shit is like their kryptonite, I smell like stripper butter and back child support.
hey. who tried to drive me home last night?
not sure. we got lost. what do you mean "tried"?
i'm still in their car. parked on the beach. no one else is here. i have on different pants.
It is virtually impossible to listen to single ladies and perform any seated task.
I'm trying to decide if I want to bring home my 'beer champion' trophy or my chem books.
Oh god. It's my first day here, I'm still drunk and somebody just drifted in a forklift. I'm going to die.
She's pissed. She declared she was moving out and proceeded to pack 3 pairs of shoes, her electric wine opener and ONE sock. Then told us to have fun paying her portion of the rent.
I put labels all over the house on things I think are mine. A cactus, the dog, and a bottle of wine.
I don't know what I should tell you tell you. I don't want to encourage you to dye my dog.
do you remember the combo for the lock to my pants?
She bit a glowstick open. Apparently they burn. We bonded while she washed the chemicals out of her mouth as I did double shots of Jager.
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
Unless your apartment has 3 am pancakes Im not coming over.
okay the fridge is completely filled only with alcohol. Not even exaggerating. There is no food.
Sometimes I wonder if we're going to make it to 40.
Some guy in the bathroom just took his shirt off and proceeded to tell me the story behind all of his stab wounds. That's what I get for making small talk
He was semi blacked out in the hallway with a bucket, calling for me while I had sex with his best friend in the very next room. Why do you let me do these things?
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