I made out with four boys last night, AND EXCUSE ME WHILE I COUNT HOW MANY GIRLS.
when your friendship is based on dead babies and vodka there is a delicate balance. lesson learned. for what its worth, you are still my number one.
She came over with Guinness cupcakes, a case of Mickeys, wearing an Ireland flag & nothing else.
just fed a duck at the lake a weed brownie. it hasnt moved in 20 minutes.
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I got you a housewarming gift. It starts with "A" and ends with "bottle of Jameson"
I asked you if you were ok and you said "dude I'm fine, I'm in the recovery position"
I tried. Now my legs are bleeding and I cracked my head on the coffee table. Never taking your advice again.
We're the only two others left at work. My internal monologue is going: TAKE ME. TAKE ME NOWW. ON THE COUNTER. IN FRONT OF THE MANAGER. JUST TAKE MEEE
I don't know what to be prouder of: the fact that last night i was able to successfully find my way home from evanston with 3-d glasses on, or that i was able to make my way around my house in the dark with my pants around my ankles
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I whipped my shit out and she just stared at it with a mean face. It was like a face off in a heavyweight boxing fight.
That guy was drunk and couldn't get it up so he just tried to scissor me.
We need to leave a grand offering for the god of free booze and salvia.
You drink too much. You cuss too much. You have questionable morals. You're everything I've ever wanted in a friend.
National tequila day this year falls on a Monday. I've never been more disappointed in my life.
i just want a beer and a blow job. is that so much to ask?
and i just want a ring so i can stop faking it. is that?
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