I cannot believe you needed a note to remind yourself to ask me about the fourteen sleeping Mexicans.
There are not one, but two women wearing my boxers on the couch right now. You need to wake the fuck up.
It's hard to be above the influence when you are the influence.
I just stood up and am wasted. I think I just admitted to my mom that I am trying to fuck everyone in New York because they're skinny and ethnically ambiguous. Meanwhile, happy hour isn't over yet.
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Every time you blow me I should make a paper crane and we'll make them into a chain and hang them from the ceiling. And then whenever we have people over and they ask what the cranes are for I'll say "reminders" and wink at you.
She rode an inflatable shark down the stairs. Viva shark week.
It was an "I snuck in through the window at 5am with my underwear in my pocket" kind of night.
'twas the night before moms weekend and all were blacked out. Not a coug was sober not even farm house. I was down to fuck but you were not in sight, so I bid pullmania a sweet goodnight.
She complimented my boobs and then told me I smelled like teddy bears before falling asleep on the floor.
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My stripper pole led lights flash with the sound so it's awsome with music
I'm gone to the point of literally hugging trees, partially for support, but also because I like them.
He fingered me in a Waffle House bathroom and then stole a traffic cone. Is this love that I'm feeling?
I think I sold my soul to a dominatrix last night.
I really don't know how I went from having a few drinks to waging war against ghosts in my apartment but here we are
Went to the party dressed like a Cougar and brought a twenty something dressed as Micheal Phelps home. So far I’m loving being divorced. :-)
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