My brain says no but my pants say off.
he walked in on you at the party drunkenly dancing alone on the bed wearing mardi gras beads, sunglasses, and using one ski pole as a microphone.... and you STILL got laid. i dont get your life.
there are certain things about getting into a cab to go home at 630 am that make me feel like a prostitute.
That's what happens when you park you car under a perfectly good balchony I can puke off of
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We ran out of wine so we are trying the absinthe you brought over from Spain like 3 years ago. Please call me at noon tomorrow. If we die, its your fault
Just promise me we won't die tonight. I can't have an autopsy report that reads "stomach contents: Tequila and semen."
Call me when you get off. I have stories about black lesbians in jail begging to braid my hair...
I did the crab walk everywhere because I was drunk enough that it was easier than standing up.
We need to put it on a rope attached to the bong, so it can't be dropped. Apparently, you need a stem safety leash.
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I would sacrifice a finger for two more hours of sleep.
For a second I thought that you were becoming a decent person again. I am glad I was wrong.
Omg the sex was so good my ears popped. Thank god too. Cause then I didn't have to hear him going on and on about his dumbass feelings. It's called a booty call bitch.
I just got the high sucked out of me. Fuck.
Just got hit on by a 28-year old, quadraplegic, triple-cancer-survivor redneck. Now updating bucket list to meet newfound standards.
They were shocked that I could handle my liquor so well. I'm half Irish and half Russian. This is what I'm made for
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