I have no voice and feel like lukewarm beer.
If I sit on the seam of my jeans just the right way when the bass hits, this might be my new favorite band.
There's a lady carrying her kids toy animals in a crown royal bag. Mom of the year.
my car smells like vomit and bananas. this can't really be my life.
I have glow sticks stuck to my boobs and a missed call from the 911. I'd say last night was a success.
I woke up with a fake mustache stuck to my chest and I can't even hold down water.
By the power invested in me, I now pronounce your taco to be meaty. Meaty taco meaty taco meaty meaty meaty taco.
So not the biggest tits he had his cock between. He could have lied.
Which I'm also surprisingly fine with. If he walked into the bedroom naked, holding a fish in one hand and a lit candle in the other and said "Let's get fucking weird." I'd probably go with it. He's just that hot.
I think sneezing out coked up boogers onto your professor disqualifies you from the "I was sick" excuse
All I remember is grabbing a random guys dick at the bar and him just saying thank you and us taking a shot together
First night in my new apartment and I threw up in front of my neighbors door. Starting off this relationship strong.
My stuff that was at your place last night smells like doughnuts. I'm not even mad.
I shouldn't have that kind of responsibility when the prospect of being high is readily available. All I could do was hula hoop and smoke cigarettes last night. My remembrance of anything important was out the window.
I WOULD NEVER MIX DICK AND MCDONALDS
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