I just heard a teenager say to his friend "dats my baby! i was hittin her up on myspace like gurllll. she got me steamin". must have missed the memo its 2005 and we still use myspace.
When he was fingering me, it felt/looked like he was digging around for pocket change.
I know it may not be fiscally responsible to pregame fifty cent night, but I'm gonna go ahead and do it anyway.
She just kept tellin me God was coming back and he was leavin her with a bag of stale doritoes and shitty friends.
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
How the fuck did you end up in a tree? With multiple people?
the boys love us. they call us "the stoner girl suite down the hall". not very inspired, but flattering nonetheless
We found her on the balcony debating if it was easier to jump or throw up. Neither decision would not have been good for the 91 year old below us.
You were sitting in a chair and you said "I just feel like a little fishy, floooooating through the ocean, so pretty"
On the bright side, only one more day until we aren't sober anymore.
Does he know you were at a strip club taking shots of tequila right before you babysat his son?
I'm torn between regretting everything and regretting nothing.
Or is it distressingly heterosexual?
His face will be in my vagina later so I'm willing to forgive.
He told his wife he was too old to pretend to be straight. She tried to argue. He walked two tables over and was like this is my highschool sweetheart and he's an excellent fuck, we're running away together. It was epic.
Randomize
