Let's make love on the newspapers that declare financial doomsday
We named our saturday intramural dodgeball team "we're hungover". Pretty much just an excuse to fuel my alcoholism on friday nights.
The bathroom is trashed. Someone took down all the rings of the shower curtain and Scott threw up on the curtain liner. All the soap and shampoo is in the guest bedroom and the lightbulbs are in a drawer. And there are vom footprints.
Dude... You bled on his hand... At this point it doesn't matter that you called him your exes name, seriously.
you called her butter tits and then threw up in your cup. i dont know if theres any way to come back from that
EMERGENCY: IS A KAREOKE RICKROLL ACCEPTABLE IN THE YEAR 2011?
on the list of things i learned today that are not stripper poles: ex-boyfriends, table legs, and police officers.
Those people having sex on the beach kept looking over at you guys throwing his shoes at the seagulls.
They evidently had to pull his penis out of me while we were passed out on the floor.
Oh god. It's like a broken faucet. My guts sound like a bilge pump clogged with golf balls and cake frosting.
Even worse we were making a sex tape so our reaction to the condom breaking was recorded.
im in the library and there's this guy on a computer just staring at a google image of beer. finals week is rough.
I'm just gonna clean the house so my Mom won't think I'm hung over. I'll just start with the toilet
His dick was so bent it was like fucking captain hook's hand for 2 hours
If Plan B had a rewards card I would have earned so many free tote bags by now
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