So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
He was streaking. We were hammered. We had roman candles. It only made sense to shoot them at him.
Weird we were more concerned with sharing our germs than tag teaming the blow job?
Thank you for getting us into that car accident. I have had more guys hit on me than ever before because of my broken fingers.
Then you started screaming that this was the first time you did e and that you had a 4.8 gpa, that was right before you almost suffocated between that one girl's tits.
I'm not afraid to fist fight your child if I feel he is standing in between me and some tacos.
then she lifted her dress, tweaked her own nipples, and then ordered another round for everyone. this place is wild at 9pm.
I texted him a series of texts in which the first letters of each text spelled out "WE SHOULD HAVE SEX". If that's not dedication to the dick, I don't know what is
I've got to stop being so hungover that I puke in the fine establishments of this glorious town.
Welp, just took a tab of acid and cracked one of three bottles of champagne... Mondays ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
I bought a machete, tennis balls, and matches. How is this NOT going to be a great night?
Nothing screams "crazy cat lady" like a nursery in your house when you're over 30, single and have no kids.
Plus you need some new dick in your life, the environment is fucked enough you don’t have to recycle anymore 😂💀
No reason. My tongue went numb after one shot. I may die tonight
You ran up to my room. I was naked. You refused to leave without drugs. I love you.
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