This is some kinda fucked up sordid doggy brothel peepshow bullshit.
I'm so drunk that I ordered a root beer at the bar. Whoops?
Dude stop singing. Your life is not an episode of fucking glee
the only reason why im excited to go home for break is to finally eat real fucking food and have normal bowel movements.
I was in a threesome last night that turned into a violent domestic dispute with damage to a hotel. Wish you were there!
I don't care. I'm going to fuck John's friend and it's all your fault.
I apologize for forcing you to look at my boob when we were high. It was uncalled for
Mmmhmmm sure, nice try, but there's certain wounds that only bj's can heal
ALL CAPS CUZ ITS SERIOUS SHAME.
Don't worry, your car is safe with me. I am throwing watermelons out of it at mailboxes and hipster kids.
The only thing I remember is doing a toddlers and tiaras dance routine onstage. I fucking CURTSIED.
OMG stop. Pretty feet? Sparkle baby!
So I dropped $130 while buying shots for an army ranger, got my fake taken, almost went to jail, and came out of my black out when I was talking to the cops with a stolen detour sign in my hands.
I walking on her passed out on her bed, clutching a burrito and the walking dead dvd on replay.
Is she blowing you? I'm in the closet.
He's the douchy one who wouldn't let me rip his shirt off, right?
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