the next morning i told him i was impressed that he remembered my name. he said it wasn't that hard when "tracy
I'm pretty sure there is a country song about this exact situation
it is 7:54 and i am surrounded by drunk old people. drunk enough that my grandmother and her friend just compared boobs. as in, shirts off, bras coming down. save me.
And I know a few people wouldnt want to even be around high people. Which is sad. But jet packs are cool.
I wish that one Sunday morning I could wake up feeling like I have my life together.
I have a page in my 2010 scrapbook dedicated to pictures of his cock.
i'm sober ask me anything about the civil war
I started making breakfast to subdue the hangover and last of the shrooms and only got as far as eating a half frozen pierogi out of a dixie cup.
After a certain blood-alcohol level, the dog is in charge.
So I think I might just embrace the awkwardness and say he fingerblasted her cause thats the greatest word in existence
I didn't mind you coming over, just I'm quite sure most booty calls don't involve a scavenger hunt...
I tried to twerk on a barn in 3 inch heels at a party last night and nose dived into mud. These were all new friends. I'm probably not allowed back. Cool.
I just remembered that you tried to trade me for a glass of wine
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
We left Waffle House and he took off running five miles down the road saying we were "training for the Olympics." And I mean, I couldn't leave him out there like that...
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