1. Call me if you need ANYTHING. 2. If you get tag teamed, I want details.
I remember going home with 2 girls. Woke up with 4.
so the situation is a+b=c where "a" is how much you weight, "b" is my gravitational pull, and "c" is how erect your penis is.
I'm not inviting you over anymore if my cat keeps ending up in the freezer...
I'm high, and her 2,100 tagged pictures annoy me even MORE. I wish it had a google searchbar so I could type in "cleavage pics" to get to the point.
They have beer in plastic boots. How am I supposed to resist that?
At this point I just want to meet a man with a job.
I AM COVERED IN FAKE BLOOD AND REAL CUM. I AM AWESOME
Can I just say I love the fact that were in business with guys where I can write a hand job up hoes down text message
It feels like New Years Day all over again...me trying desperately not to throw up in the backseat & mom and dad blissfully unaware in the front
hey remember that mom you brought home from the bar last month... she is currently driving me back to her place. turning my phone off now.
Visiting Houston was a good decision for my penis.
We were walking home from Pluckers (read carrying your drunk ass) and out of nowhere you yelled "Say bitch you got a Facebook?" at a random chick walking by.
We tried to do sophisticated last night, but our low class kept shining through.
I spent most of my night in the men's room eating popcorn on the garbage can conversing with strangers pissing
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