I fell off the front porch last night. Actually.. I dove. I dove off the front porch.
So I'm pretty sure I fucked the dept of homeland security guy on my kitchen table. No recollection of it, but there are signs.
I love memorial day. It's drinking in the name of patriotism. God Bless America
I woke up to you in just boxers at my door at 7a.m. with you saying how many squrriels you counted on the walk back, then you made me penis shaped pancakes
Oh god, so much rum. I think I was in a shotgun wedding with a Bacardi promotion girl.
New definition for "rock bottom": Waking up in a puddle of your own puke, missing your fake tooth. Then having to dig through said puddle of puke for aforementioned fake tooth. Think it's time I quit partying so hard.
Is this your way of breaking up with me as my wingman?
15 year-old stoners have those problems. we're college students dude. dont be like that...
My month off booze swimsuit season diet plan is working well. Plus I'm learning so much about my house, did you know a girl named Meagan lives here?
I CRIED after phone sex. Am I gay?
I'm going to need a Jurassic park sized pooper scooper to deal with all this shit last night caused.
My hands are stained pink. I look like I fisted a muppet.
I feel like the universe head butted me in my balls. That hungover.
.... My lady balls. Cuz I'm a lady.
Last night I said "I'm so glad you broke up with your lesbian soccer mom girlfriend" I don't remember how he reacted I just remember trying to pee in the woods
I'm about to turn myself in when I'm less hungover.
You have to commit to sexting. You can't just quit right after I send you pictures of my asshole.
Seriously, come on.
I feel like there's a picture of my ass on the internet right now.
I hate you.
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