So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
Girls only wine night turned into a sloppy drunk lesbian orgy again
closing bar tabs have helped me with simple math in college.
I'm not going to fuck him in his Honda Fit. That's gay.
Youre at medical school. Im eating raw cookie dough, pickles, and orange juice. Naked. On a monday afternoon. I clearly make better life choices than you.
judging by her collection of mens sweaters, shes fucked the entire lands end catalog.
THESE BITCHES NOT IN MY MAJOR BETTER NOT FILL UP MY SLAVIC FAIRYTALES CLASS
The maintenance guy says happy birthday. Also, he likes your penis balloon.
Dude, nobody just eats a banana these days. This chick wanted it. She wanted to get down with Charlie Brown.
We've only been here for 15 hours and our names are already on 2 separate police reports. We've also been given our "final warning" by the cops and hotel management.
Having to grow a landing strip to cover the bruises from pole dancing. Thanks for the birthday present, but next time, maybe just a gift card?
I can not say for certain that I did not blow someone in the bathroom at the bar at some point.
Instead of asking him how many women he's slept with I just got straight to the point and asked how many Plan B pills he's purchased
Mid-fucking he screams "YOU CAN'T VOTE FOR TRUMP"
Only true party girls take their birth control with Smirnoff.
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