Your face is a jimmy john
Apparently, we were running around the apartment, singing into pickles, the routinely slapped our passed out friends with them.
The background of my phone is you taped to the wall wearing a cowboy hat
I have got to stop making out with redheads. I need to sign my life over to my dad like Britney Spears.
You know how there are wrinkles in your brain? What if they were filled with potato chips? That's kind of how my head feels now.
The two girls sitting next to me are asking siri "Like, uh, how do you know my name?". Do I fuck with them or fuck them?
And then we can spend New Year's Day sprawled across the tiles watching greys anatomy and puking into the bushes over the balcony. It'll be great
her wearing orange crocs at the bar was definitely a great form of contraception
Well, if it gives you any indication, when I got there, there was already some dude passed out naked in the treehouse.
I'm right down the road from AJ's old house and I'm getting mixed feelings. My vagina is remembering good dick. But the rest of me is remembering horrible times.
I remember sitting in your lap naked saying I don't want to be all looks while you gently rocked me back and forth
I mean, the night I fell out of that bus I made you pour vodka onto my wound to clean it, then duct taped a paper towel to my hand and kept drinking.
She was way too drunk so I dropped her off at her house and smoked a huge blunt with her mom.
I mean, you've had my nipples in your mouth now, so I think we've reached a certain level of friendship.
You know the rule about how you feel bad for getting food and not offering other people you're around, does that apply when you eat burger king at a strip club?
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