I called Tyra Banks a whore to her face. A sure sign I should go home. Instead I went to the gay bar.
me texting you is like we have secret walkie talkies.
Tell her to not eat the pizza she threw up on.
The cardboard box in my backseat wasn't strong enough to keep your pee contained. Come clean my car.
My vagina senses are tingling. I know your here.
This is final. The chair stays in the bathroom, we are too old to be puking from the floor, grown ups sit in chairs infront of the toilet to puke.
Or grown ups don't drink themselves into vomiting.
She may be a slut, but at least she's a dedicated slut. She's always super tan and has her shit shaved in really cool designs.
Sorority life is like alcoholic girl scouts, plus douchebags in polos.
I've watched enough of my roommate's imported Japanese satellite to know when the exchange students are calling me a whore.
I wasn't trying to be rude when I hurriedly walked past you, but I can not put in to words exactly how bad I had to shit.
Donating $10 to Sandy victims for every hurricane I drink tomorrow. Buying me alcohol just became a good cause.
her wearing orange crocs at the bar was definitely a great form of contraception
I'll text you later. I think she thinks we're taking this whole "no sex" thing seriously.
Either of you know why the shower was on and the bathroom door wide open with no one in there at 6 in the morning?
I'm in his bed with no pants on and he's just eating a sloppy joe
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