I'm sorry for everything. i woke up with two citations stapled to my shirt.
I showed him my bush... on skype.
literally every day that goes by where he doesn't talk to me makes me more determined to get him to have sex with me
drunk lawn darts. Let's test the homeowners policy
You called him your tasty little crouton. Which actually wasn't the weirdest part.
We crashed a rave, threw glitter all over Gay Dan and the bartender, broke a chandelier and called ourselves the Kings of Neon.
I'm waiting at the bar and am surrounded by unattractive women.
You need to get here and rebalance this disturbance in the force.
My cab driver just suggested I brush my teeth because he can smell "the party" on me.
Neil John just started open mouth kissing everyone to make sure they are safe.
I'm convinced that the Christmas lights in my room contributed to the great sex.
And at the semi-adult age of 25 I have shit my pants. Not even drunk, just really late to work. Is this real life?
You're just a heartbreaker with a knitting problem
I just turned down a booty call because I'm having a Star Wars movie marathon
The one that slept in my truck and you peed in his face?
You know you have a problem when your man yells at you that his penis is not your personal play toy.
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