The maid of honor just puked.
He just spent five minutes trying to sling shot a cheese-it off his dick and into my mouth.
Two kids are drinking pounders in class. I think I'm hanging out with the wrong group of friends.
This is a drunk text message. I am so glad that we are friends. Tomorrow we will eat sandwiches in miniature. We both love dogs. Flower.
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I have fifteen cents in cash and 80 cents in the bank. BUT I have weed.
Remember that crazy chick I've been ignoring and said I wouldn't bang her again? Can we start that again part today?
They just came out of my bathroom and asked if I could spare them a condom. See. Its a good thing I have some.
I was puzzled last night that there were shots waiting for us when we got there. Just read my messages and saw you were ordering from the bar via texts.
So I love how we keep introducing our friends to sex toys. It's like pay it forward vibrator edition.
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You. Me. A bottle of Vodka. The wilderness.
Well, my nose won't stop bleeding from really bad cocaine and my purse is full of plastic gold coins. Also, someone saved in my phone as "tyrannosaurus sex" won't quit texting me. Savannah won. Let's put it that way.
Nothing quite says Coachella like me doing high yoga in the middle of a field by myself
One day we'll be rich enough to go to rehab. Until then, fuck it.
I found myself looking up beard accounts while masturbating, I guess that's what it's come to.
Its like my group of friends and I are all dating and we're all just a bunch of Swingers, is that normal?
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