Dear tim. Christina farted and it smells like kid roses.
He looks like a mix between a retired piano teacher and a cat that just swallowed a sock.
The walk of shame isn't so shameful when you do it in a stolen, autographed Favre jersey.
Before he took my jeans off all he said was "no hard feelings from middle school right?"
At least you weren't that one girl in the bar that was letting everyone draw on her in sharpie. Worst decision I've ever witnessed.
Actually, considering the facts that I am wearing a duct tape dress and eating a gas station quesadilla, I am pretty good.
Drunk you assumed that me saying I thought squirrels were cute meant for you to trap one in my car by luring it in with ham. You're going to hell for this.
The last thing I remember was paying off her younger brother not to judge me, then puking on his shoes.
Want to get drunk and look at an xray of my dick?
Should I be concerned you put your last name in my phone as "danger"?
Sloppy and selfish. Your 27 and you don't know where my clit is? BYEEE
Something tells me tonight will end with me wearing my pants on my head again.
He has great stamina, he knows how to use his tongue, and he's hung like a goddamn Pegasus. I can overlook the man bun.
Ah Christ I think I've reached the single life mentality 100%. I just inquired a photographer about a photo shoot with my dog.
We really gotta wear capes to the bar more often...
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