I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Dude, no matter how drunk you are, it's not okay to hug every other guy at a strip club. Mainly because boners are far too common.
If he comes back to you and I'm left alone in lonelytown I'm totally going to poo on your car.
he said i was the most charming throwing up drunk person hes ever taken care of. so of course i had sex with him.
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he just made me do "this little piggy" to his toes.
they call him the transporter because he'll be your designated driver in exchange for sufficient weed or sex.\n
what about money
no - he has a code he lives by
getting up at 8am to start drinking seemed like a much better idea before I had to wake up at 8am
1 tequila 2 tequila 3 tequila, floor.
*roof
She told me about it right after. She said she was scared I would be disappointed. And I was, but I pretended not to be. Which pretty much sums up our relationship.
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Sorry I couldn't reference you in my facebook quote. I will redirect any likes and comments straight to my blowjob efforts this week.
Hahaha idk what's worse your life or my hangover.
Dude she tried to bite my face off last night, literally. I have never actually felt like a piece of meat until that point in life...
Look, you don't know disfunction until you've sat on the john taking a shit and crying while totally sober.
When i was tripping hard i was banging Jeff's roommate and her room turned into Hogwarts
Also when we were banging i thought my high school librarian was perched up on top of the stereo like a gargoyle but it ended up just being her cat
I went to finger her and found a penny. I think ill keep it.
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