I need to shower the guilt off of my thighs.
Just incase you were wondering, the count of ladies who have perioded on chairs at our fine restaurant is now at 3.
I like complaining with weaving words and complex sentences. It makes me seem more sophisticated and less bitchy.
if we break up, who will get the dealer?
My favorite part was walking in the bathroom, you fixing yourself in the mirror, calling your reflection a fag, then throwing a haymaker into the paper towel dispenser before going back out to the bar.
You tried to sled down the middle of the street. In. Your. Coat. Of course you are bruised.
The worst part was I wasn't conscious enough to move out of the way, I knew i was being puked on but I couldn't move.
My only objective is to get drunk enough to forget the last 364 days.
Thanks man, but unless some hot chick comes in to work with a case of beer and offers me a head job, I'm pretty much screwed for New Years
I don't remember anything that happened last night past 10.. I made him buy me a Buckeye's Donut tshirt. I have no idea why he'd want to fuck me after that.
Mainly I just wanna pet bunnies. And purple chicks. Well any color chicks if I close my eyes. But purple if I open them.
I woke up on a navy base in a different time zone. I'm never leaving tallahassee again.
I just need a fucking pair of pants. Is that too much to ask for?
My GF, FWB and Side piece are all booty calling me. I’m a victim of my sexual success
This is the weekend we were supposed to be in Vegas making bad decisions hoping no one got VD, not stuck at home for the 900th day in a row
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