I've decided to tape numbers to the bottom of my heels corresponding to the number of drinks I can safely consume in them.
Tequila bombs in champagne seemed like a good idea at the time.
Chicken salad taco, you know, when you're out of bread and crackers, and high.
Having him as a wingman is like telling the girl you already have aids
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He just climbed off me and used my hairspray to fix his hair. If he hadn't just gone down on me I would think he's gay.
he fucked me to the beat of the construction going on outside my house. i will never look at jackhammers the same ever again.
Would you even take no as an answer? I have a feeling you see it more as a challenge.
It was awkward at first he now knows I fucked his little brother, they were both there. then the tequila kicked in and everything was fine.
It doesn't matter how many beers you've had, it's unacceptable to piss in someone's helmet after a playoff win.
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Maybe there is a secret pocket full of cocaine in that spiderman wallet.
My vag hurts but I feel vindicated
That is an interesting emotion combo
I just want to get drunk and wake up on Wednesday
We can't stop being roommates, you do such a good job of holding my hair back when I puke. I don't wanna buy hair elastics.
The dysfunction is strong in this one.
he's so sweet and its so cute. but I swear to fuck if I let my guard down and this was all a lie I am going to become a serial killer.