I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
that last vodka shot was definitely the straw that broke the camels alcohol tolerance level
i should teach a seminar on how to fall off the wagon
You tried to convince me you were sober by doing jumping jacks. For an hour.
All i remember was you crying naked on the bathroom floor because you were cold. I got you a blanket and you kept kicking it off and crying because you were still cold.
I an in a belgian bar and i cant understand shit. Trying to talk to strangers. Getting drunk until we all speak the same language. Brace for updates.
We interrupt your regularly scheduled Saturday morning programming with this important announcement: you are not the father. I repeat not the father. Congratulations and have a nice day.
I've decided I'm gonna attack people with the toilet plunger.
High-fiving last weekend's hook up in passing on the way to class has given me quite the lady boner.
I work 80 hours a week to prevent myself from just laying in bed and masturbating all day. It's a hands off strategy.
I had to say goodbye to one of my fuck buddies last night. He's voting for Trump, we shouldn't be doing it anyways.
He played with my nipples while singing "How great thou art"
Date with Air Force guy was nice btw. And for my next trick I'll talk him into fucking me in his fighter jet at 30,000 ft.
We are never doing shots of gin. Never again.
I'm pretty sure that's exactly what we're doing.
She yelled “outlaw country” right before we heard the police siren
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