apparently the officer said last night, "son, why don't you do yourself a favor and spread your legs so you don't keep vomiting on them". why can't I remember those nights?!
Literally just spent 45 minutes converting my paintball gun to shoot condoms....
I can't tell if I miss summer or 5 times a day sex more.
Unless you can cure my hangover with your penis I'm not interested.
I'm not sure what happened last night but I woke up next to him and I was wearing nothing but my grandpa's diabetic socks, so I'm letting that fill in the blanks.
I'm watching my cat lick a used condom wrapper on my nightstand and I'm too hungover to move and do anything about it. Tequila Tuesdays can not be a thing.
I don't know what I'm more pleased with, the blowie last night or that fact that there's still 20 dollars in my wallet
Fuck. I have to get my shit together by lunch. Mission impossible.
I am literally sitting here with a jar of Nutella and a spoon, reading an article called "never drink alone again because now there's wine for cats." How single am I?
I just look at my butt and see so much potential.
The guy that stalks me just looked out his window and saw me in his neighbor's hot tub. Get your shit ready the fraternity wars are starting.
That awkward moment when you realize that last night you walked from in n out to petco, bought a mouse for $3, named it mogar, taught it how to skateboard on a techdeck, made it a home out of a trash can, fed it fruity pebbles and cheese, and then forgot where you left it.
He's petting your head, we need to leave now.
Can you confirm that you aren't dead?
Must lick fork, like it's a DICK
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